Smoke and Mirrors
by Jo. R
Summary: Someone from the past has a score to settle with the team. NaNoWriMo 2010 story.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Smoke and Mirrors  
Author: Jo. R (driftingatdusk)  
Rating: FR-15  
Category: Drama, Case-file, Romance, Angst, Action, Friendship  
Pairing: Abby/Gibbs  
Spoilers: Bloodbath, Hiatus 1&2, Murder 2.0, Broken Bird, Faith, Rule 51, Cracked  
Summary: Someone from the past has a score to settle with the team.  
Thanks to Lisa for proofreading for me. *hugs* Any mistakes that remain are my own.

* * *

Prologue

* * *

Two men sat opposite each other in the brightly lit visiting room, separated by the thick, clear plastic screen. One of them, the man wearing a bright orange jumpsuit typical of prisoners glanced somewhat nervously over his shoulder at the waiting security detail as his visitor, the man in the smart suit and dark brown wig, picked up the telephone receiver on his side of the window and motioned the prisoner to do the same.

"It's starting soon," the man in the suit said in a quiet but confident tone, the excitement in his eyes hidden by the tinted glasses he wore but a note of it he couldn't quite contain creeping into his voice.

The prisoner in the orange jumpsuit felt his heart pound faster, blood and adrenaline coursing through his body at a dizzying, almost sickening rate. He felt momentarily faint, his head spinning, and hoped he wasn't going to pass out. It would draw too much attention, he knew, would only make the guards ask questions, questions he wouldn't be able to answer. He licked his dry lips and spoke in a whisper "Who did you choose first?"

The man in the suit gave him a small, almost secretive smile, the corners of his mouth tilting upwards only a little. "Why, it's ladies first, of course. One of the few things my mother did right was to raise me with manners."

From behind the clear plastic, the man in orange tightened his hold on the receiver, his eyes widening a little in apprehension. "You haven't... Not…?"

"No, no." Pleased the glasses hid his rolling eyes and the disdain he was sure would be easy to see, his visitor shook his head slightly. "You made it clear she was the exception; that she is to be spared. Don't worry, my friend; I gave you my word and I won't go back on it. She'll still be alive and well when you get out of here, I promise, unlike the people she works with."

Anticipation had him leaning forward on the edge of his seat, his nose almost pressed to the window between them. The prisoner knew he should restrain himself but hope made him too giddy to care. "Any idea on when that'll be? Me getting out of here, I mean? You said..."

"Soon," his visitor promised. "You'll be out of here soon. I just have to make the NCIS agents pay first, make sure they're out of the way, and then we'll both be home free."

The two men exchanged a smile, both confident they'd each get what they wanted from their arrangement.

* * *

Part One

* * *

"And Team DiNozzo wins again!" NCIS Special Agent Anthony 'Tony' DiNozzo cheered as he threw the crumpled ball of paper in his hands in the direction of the trashcan between his desk and Special Agent Timothy 'Tim' McGee's. "You know, we're really getting good at this."

"Playing basketball with screwed up pieces of paper?" McGee asked sceptically as he tried – and failed – to get his own ball of paper into the bin.

Tony grinned at his teammate and leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on his desk with a satisfied sigh. "That, too, for some of us, but I meant getting the bad guy. Third conviction this month; you gotta admit we're good."

"Who is good at what?" NCIS Probationary Agent and former Mossad liaison Ziva David approached with Abby Sciuto, the NCIS forensic specialist.

The two ladies had disappeared to the restrooms after returning from court and had returned, Tony noted, looking more like themselves and less like the people the prosecuting lawyer had insisted they be. Abby, in particular, he noticed had changed out of the unflattering court clothes she'd worn and back into the short skirt, tight top and high boot combination she loved so much.

"Team DiNozzo's good at getting the bad guys," Tony clarified. "I'm sure if we looked into it, we'd have broken all of the records.

"Team DiNozzo?" Abby Sciuto paused in fastening one of her infamous pigtails, an eyebrow arched as she looked at him with a grin. "You get promoted again, Tony?"

"News to me if he did," another voice joined the conversation, and Tony sat up straighter in his chair, his feet returning to the floor.

Clearing his throat, he glanced up at the team leader, an apologetic grin on his face as Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs stared at him as he took a sip from the coffee cup in his hand. "I meant Team Gibbs, Boss. Of course."

"Of course," Gibbs repeated with an arched eyebrow. The silver-haired agent navigated his way around Abby and Ziva and took his place behind his own desk.

"But seriously, someone's gotta be keeping track of this, right? Our success rate?" Tony looked between his teammates. "We catch more of the bad guys than any other team. Sure, some of the time the bad guys don't make it to court – it's not really our fault they blow themselves up or make us shoot 'em – but our success rate has to be one of the best if not the best, right?"

Ziva rolled her eyes while Abby smirked. The Israeli sat down at her desk while the forensic specialist perched on the edge of Gibbs' desk, facing her, after throwing the man himself a quick smile to make sure he didn't mind her presence.

"You look happy," Ziva pointed out, smiling at Abby as she straightened the first pigtail and started work on the second. "Relieved to be out of those clothes?"

Abby shuddered dramatically. "Oh, yeah. Who would wear that stuff? Voluntarily? I mean, it's not a good look, is it?"

"Perhaps if you wore the right size..." Ziva let her voice trail off at the glare she got from her friend. "Besides, Commander Wright did not seem to agree. I believe he said you looked cute, yes?"

Not noticing Gibbs' sudden interest in the conversation, and oblivious to Ziva's smirk when she did, Abby rolled her eyes. "Commander Wright would say any woman looked cute in a potato sack if he thought he had a chance with them. He's delusional."

"So he does not have a chance with you?" Ziva met Gibbs' eye over Abby's shoulder and arched an eyebrow. "I thought he was... handsome."

"He could be the most handsome man in the world and still stand no chance. He's too creepy for that," Abby added with another shudder. She followed Ziva's line of sight and twisted to look at Gibbs, frowning when she found him staring intently at a folder on his desk. "You got yourself a coffee and didn't get me a Caf-Pow? Gibbs!"

Without looking up, Gibbs shrugged. "There's one in your lab, Abs."

"Yay!" Jumping off the desk, Abby started towards the elevators at the back of the squad room. "You guys plan what we're doing to celebrate tonight – I'll be right back!"

"Did someone say celebrate...?" Tony broke off from his conversation with McGee about starting a database to keep track of their successes. "Drinks after work?"

Ziva shrugged when his gaze fell on her. "I am game. It would be good to loosen our hair after the trial."

"Let down our hair," Tony corrected with a smirk.

"You are just jealous I have hair to let down," Ziva countered with a sweet smile.

"Why would I be jealous of that?" Tony asked with a frown, running his hands through his hair as if to check it was all present and accounted for.

"I think she means that at least she's not showing signs of a receding hairline, Tony," McGee chimed in with a grin, siding easily with Ziva.

As Tony protested – and started searching through his desk drawer for a mirror to check – Gibbs shook his head and bit back a grin at the banter. They might exasperate him sometimes, annoy him even, but they were still his team and he was glad he had them.

* * *

It was a happy group that descended on a bar near to the Navy Yard that night. Doctor Donald 'Ducky' Mallard, Medical Examiner, and his assistant, Jimmy Palmer, joined them and made their impromptu celebration complete.

Staying away from the alcohol so he could keep an eye on his team and make sure they all got home safely; Gibbs watched them interact with one another and listened to the conversations flowing around him, joining in when he was pointedly invited, usually by Ducky or Abby.

Tony was still trying to convince Ziva and Abby that there should be a record of all of their successful cases, and insisting that, if there were records, he was sure the team would have broken them all by now.

McGee and Palmer were arguing over their latest case that had successfully gone to court, the trial that had ended only a matter of hours before. McGee was insisting it was the evidence he had found to prove that the Naval Lieutenant's laptop had been used to access his bank accounts after his death that secured the conviction against his roommate, while Palmer insisted it was the tiny scrap of DNA he'd recovered from the Lieutenant's body that had managed to convince both judge and jury.

Ducky leaned back and took it all in with an indulgent smile, meeting Gibbs' gaze with sparkling blue eyes and an affectionate look. "Quite a team we have here, Jethro."

"Quite a drunk team," Gibbs interjected when he noticed both McGee and Tony lift their empty glasses and tilt them back before realising with almost identical expressions of confusion that their drinks were gone. "Think we should call it a night," he said in a louder voice, "we've all got work tomorrow."

Both Tony and McGee looked like they were about to protest but the look their boss shot them silenced them. Ziva, who had stopped herself at one small glass of wine before switching to orange juice, coughed to hide a chuckle at the downcast expressions on their faces.

"But we haven't settled the argument!" A tipsy Palmer piped up, alcohol making him brave enough to argue but not brave enough to withstand the glare Gibbs gave him. "We were just trying to decide whose evidence won the case," he added with a slight pout.

Gibbs shrugged and got up, motioning for the others to do the same. "That's easy." He waited a beat, both men looking at him anxiously. "Abby's."

Abby gave him a wide, appreciative smile as he helped her into her jacket, leaning back against him a little. She missed the speculative glance shared between Ducky and Ziva, and the almost envious look that passed between McGee and Tony; it wasn't a secret to any of them that she was Gibbs' favourite, after all.

The group ambled out of the bar and into the cool night, saying their goodbyes as they were ushered into taxis. McGee and Palmer shared a taxi, their bickering resuming before the doors could close leaving the others feeling a little sympathetic towards their unfortunate driver while Ziva, Ducky and Tony grabbed the next cab, waving to Abby and Gibbs as they stood together watching them all leave.

"You sure you don't mind driving me home?" Abby asked, wrapping her arms around her middle. She clenched her jaw against a shiver as the breeze wrapped itself around her and smiled up at him when he instinctively closed the gap between them and offered her his arm. "I don't mind calling a cab..."

"It's almost on the way," Gibbs replied with a shrug. At the doubtful look she gave him, he allowed himself a small smile but said nothing; they both knew her apartment was on the opposite side of town to his house and they both knew he wouldn't let her get a cab on her own, no matter how much she argued. It was the downside – or a benefit, Abby thought privately – to living pretty much in the wrong direction to everyone else.

"If you say so." Deciding it was too cold to stand outside debating it, she let him lead her to the car, giving him a soft smile of thanks when he opened the passenger's door for her and waited until she was inside before closing it.

* * *

While he drove, she played with the radio until she found a station she liked – something a lot quieter than the music she usually played in her lab out of deference to his very different tastes.

They didn't talk throughout the drive but neither felt the need to; eleven plus years of working together meant that they could sit in comfortable, companionable silences without feeling the need to fill them with mindless small talk. When they reached her apartment block and Abby started to open the door, Gibbs gave her a look that made her reconsider. Rolling her eyes at his old-fashioned manners, she sat patiently as he got out of the car and walked around to open the door for her.

"Jack would be proud," she teased him lightly as she got out, straightening down the skirt she wore, missing the way his eyes tracked her movements. "You gonna walk me to my door as well?"

Gibbs shrugged and shut the door behind her. "You should be used to it by now, Abby."

"I am," she admitted with a quick smile, "though sometimes it still feels like you, Ducky and Jack are the last gentlemen on Earth."

"What about McGee and DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked quietly, walking by her side up the steps to the door of her apartment block.

"McGee's sweet but he could use some pointers," she replied with a shrug, turning to face him when they reached the door. "And I love Tony to pieces but sometimes he tries too hard to impress to be a real gentleman."

"You don't think a guy can be both?" He met her gaze, in no apparent rush to leave her despite his calling the night of celebrating to an end. "Impressive and a gentleman?"

"Oh, some guys can." Her smile was flirty, her green eyes sparkling. "Some guys can impress without trying."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

They'd moved a little closer throughout their exchange and Abby felt her pulse quicken, her mind spinning dizzily. For weeks, months even, she'd sensed a change in him, something that gave her hope he might one day act on the attraction that had existed between them from the beginning. The air between them felt different, electric almost, and she found herself wondering if, finally, the someday she'd been promising herself would one day come had arrived.

"Gibbs..."

"Abby."

His lips were millimetres from her own, his breath warm on her face. Abby fought to keep her arms at her sides, wanting to be sure whatever happened between them happened because he wanted it to and not because she'd pressed the issue. When his hand moved to her chin, tilting her face up slightly, she couldn't help the sigh that escaped her.

Almost as soon as his lips brushed hers, he pulled away. She felt herself sag in disappointment and watched as he looked up and down the empty street, his blue eyes narrowed as his shoulders tensed.

"Gibbs?" Both confused and frustrated, Abby glanced around but saw nothing that could be responsible for the sudden shift between. "What...?"

"Go inside, Abby," he told her, a little harsher than he intended. He didn't look back at her, squinting into the darkness around them instead. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Oh. Okay." Hurt flashed in her eyes but he didn't see it. "See you tomorrow, then. At work." When he said nothing, Abby glared at the back of his head and pulled her keys out of her purse. "Good night, Gibbs."

By the time the annoyed tone she used registered in his mind and he'd turned – either to apologise or explain – Abby had unlocked the front door and gone inside, closing it securely behind her. Gibbs sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, heading back down the steps to his car before he could be tempted to ring the buzzer and see if she'd let him in.

He glanced around again as he unlocked the door, the hairs on the back of his neck rising once more. He studied the seemingly deserted street again, trying to pinpoint the cause of his unease but got into his car on finding nothing.

Glancing up at Abby's window, he waited until he saw the lights go on before turning the key in the ignition, satisfied she was safe for the night; the deadlocks he'd installed on her apartment door would see to that.

The feeling didn't return again as he drove home and he told himself he was being paranoid, gave himself a mental head-slap for letting his overactive imagination get in the way of a potential moment with his forensic specialist.

Tomorrow, he promised himself, he'd make it up to her tomorrow.

* * *

Despite the chill in the air, it was a bright and sunny morning and Ziva left her apartment feeling optimistic about the day ahead. It helped, she thought with a bright smile at the neighbour she passed on the stairs, knowing that her teammates would no doubt be suffering from hangovers that she didn't share.

With a wicked glint entering her dark eyes, she got into her car and shut the door behind her, already planning how to take advantage of the situation and make their day as miserable as possible.

She started the car and turned the radio on full blast, singing along to the song that came on the radio as she checked the mirror and pulled out into the road. She turned the corner and headed down the bank.

Halfway down, she saw the lights ahead change to red and pressed her foot to the brake in preparation.

It didn't work.

Her good mood evaporated in an instant and Ziva found herself pressing her foot to the floor harder to no affect.

A harassed mother with two small children clinging from either hand started to cross the road, not noticing the car careening towards her, building up speed as the incline grew steeper.

Ziva lashed out, hitting the horn. Her eyes met the harassed woman through the glass and she realised that the mother and her children had stopped, frozen, midway across the road, their eyes open in horror as they realised she couldn't stop.

"Get out of the way," Ziva muttered, trying once more to stop her car.

When the woman and her children stayed where they were, stunned into inaction, and the cries of people grew loud enough for Ziva to hear above her music, she did the only thing she could to avoid hitting the people on the crossing: she pulled hard on the wheel, yanking it to the side and braced herself as the car careened towards the empty sidewalk and old buildings.

Closing her eyes as her car mounted the pavement, Ziva could only pray as she heard the sickening crunch of the hood meet the resistance of a brick wall before pain flooded her senses and darkness wrapped her in its firm embrace.


	2. Chapter 2

Again, my thanks to Lisa for proofreading, and to all of you who have reviewed etc. too. *hugs*

* * *

Part Two

* * *

An extra large, extra sweet coffee was put on his desk. Tony looked up through the sunglasses he wore and managed a faint smile of thanks as he wrapped his hands around the offering gratefully.

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Gibbs continued to McGee's desk and put down a similar offering next to his slumped-over agent's head before glancing over at the untouched cup on Ziva's desk, frowning after checking the time once again.

"Anyone heard from Ziva this morning?" He asked, raising his voice to the extent that the male members of his team winced. Tony answered in the form of a grunt while McGee make a concerted effort to lift his head from the table and stare bleary eyed at his boss.

"She hasn't called in," McGee confirmed. "Maybe Abby knows…?"

A shadow passed over Gibbs' face at the thought of having to call Abby after the incident the night before, having not been able to settle on what to say to her when he next saw her.

"Call her and see if she knows anything," he settled for saying eventually, turning on his heel and heading up the stairs towards MTAC and the Director's office.

Tony and McGee exchanged glances in his wake before Tony let his head fall down against his desk and McGee picked up the phone to call their forensic specialist, wincing at the loudness of the ringtone in his ear.

* * *

A nurse from Bethesda called just seconds after the BOLO McGee had put out on Ziva's car came back reporting it had been involved in an accident. The team plus Abby had been waiting for news in the squad room after all attempts at raising the probationary agent on her cell phone had failed.

While Gibbs, as Ziva's next of kin, took the telephone call, McGee pulled up the information he'd received and put it on the screen for them all to see.

"Boss?" Tony got to his feet a little shakily, already reaching for his jacket as Gibbs' hung up. "Is she...?"

"She's alive," Gibbs said grimly, grabbing his badge and gun from his desk drawer. "DiNozzo, go to the hospital and check on her. Take Abby with you," he added when the forensic specialist opened her mouth to protest. "McGee, you're with me."

"Boss?" Also standing, McGee struggled to tear his gaze away from the crash report on screen. "Where...?"

"We're going to the scene, McGee," Gibbs explained tersely. "Ziva told the nurse to tell me her brakes didn't work."

Abby frowned, wrapping her arms around herself as the group hurriedly walked towards the elevators. "She had her car serviced last week," she murmured, meeting Gibbs' gaze for the first time all morning. "Remember I drove her in?"

"I remember, Abby." Gibbs gave her a small nod, a flicker of warmth in his eyes as he noted her concern. "That's why we're going to check it out."

"You think someone did this on purpose?" Tony's jaw clenched and he jabbed the button for the parking level viciously. "Someone tampered with her car?"

"That's what we're going to find out, DiNozzo." Gibbs allowed his expression to soften on seeing the worry in his senior agent's face. "When you've checked on Ziva, join us at the scene. Abby can stay with her."

Tony nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

The four completed the journey in silence, all too engrossed in their own thoughts to realise they hadn't said goodbye as they went their separate ways.

* * *

"I am fine; I do not need to see another doctor!"

The sound of her voice, irate and grumpy, greeted them as they walked down the corridor towards her room and had never sounded so beautiful. Tony and Abby looked at each other, exchanging a relieved grin as they followed the sound into the room.

A harassed nurse, obviously trying to reason with her, looked up when they entered and sighed heavily when she realised they weren't the backup she was expecting. "Can I help you?" She asked tersely.

"No, but she can," Tony answered with a grin as Abby bypassed the woman completely and wrapped Ziva up in a big but gentle hug. "You okay, Ziva?"

"I am fine," the Israeli repeated, looking anything but as she returned the hug. Her face was unusually pale, marred by white bandages and the dark beginnings of multiple bruises. The hand that Abby didn't cling to was also wrapped in a bandage. "I would be better if these people would stop taking my blood and let me sign the papers that will get me out of here."

"They have to make sure you're okay," Abby reasoned quietly. The only thing that saved the black-haired woman from a glare was the concern shining in her green eyes as she squeezed Ziva's hand. "You've been in an accident, Ziva. They can't let you leave till they know you're okay."

"She's right, Ziva," Tony added with a grin, relief making him brave – and helping him ignore the dark look she threw in his direction. "Can't have you suing the place if you collapse after they release you."

Abby rolled her eyes while the nurse joined Ziva in glaring at him. "How many more tests do you need to do?" The forensic specialist asked, forcing herself to stay calm and be the voice of reason.

"We've done all the tests we need to," the nurse replied haughtily. "I was just trying to explain to Ms. David here that, due to the nature of the accident and her concussion, the doctor needs to approve her release before she can sign herself out. He may want to keep her in for observation..."

"That won't be necessary," Abby cut in before Ziva could protest. "We have a qualified doctor who'd be more than happy to keep an eye on her once she's released so she shouldn't need to be kept in for observation. Now, how long do you think the doctor will be?"

Clearly disgruntled but appearing somewhat relieved she didn't have to argue with Ziva anymore, the nurse glanced at the wrist watch she wore before answering. "It could be anywhere in the next ten minutes to an hour. He's a very busy man," she added unnecessarily. "Ms. David isn't his only patient."

"I did not imply that I was," Ziva retorted, her eyes narrowing. "I only said that I wished to leave as soon as possible..."

"And you will, Ziva, I promise." Abby threw her a quick smile over her shoulder before turning once again to the nurse, arranging her features into a sweet, butter-wouldn't-melt expression. "While we're waiting, do you think it would be possible for you to get the release forms? They usually take a good thirty minutes to fill in so it means we'd be out of the way a lot sooner if they were already done in preparation for the doctor's visit..."

Shaking her head, too exasperated to argue anymore, they got the impression the nurse would have liked to throw her hands up in frustration if she could. "Fine," she said shortly, "I'll go and get them. But you can't leave until the doctor signs off on them..."

"We know," Tony agreed, joining the conversation to throw her the most charming grin he could muster. "We appreciate your help, don't we, Ziva?"

"Of course," the Israeli muttered through gritted teeth. "Thank you."

The nurse left without acknowledging her, leaving Tony and Abby to complete their own visual inspection of their friend. After a few moments of silence, Ziva glared at them both and pulled her hand away from Abby's in order to cross her arms over her chest.

"Stop staring at me like that, both of you," she ordered. "I have already told you that I –"

"That you're fine," Tony finished for her, rolling his eyes. "Sound a bit like a broken record there, Ziva."

"We're just making sure," Abby agreed, a smile breaking out across her face at the scowl on Ziva's. "They didn't really tell Gibbs anything, just that you were alive, so we didn't really know what to expect..."

Ziva started to shrug but winced when the gesture caused a surge of pain. "I have a mild concussion," she informed them calmly as Abby picked up the notes from the end of her bed and Tony peered over her shoulder to read them. "And I have minor cuts and bruises."

"It says here your ribs are bruised, too, probably due to the impact of the airbag." Tony glanced up at her, a flash of something she couldn't define in his eyes keeping her from making a sharp retort. "If it hadn't worked..."

"I would probably be dead," Ziva answered matter-of-factly, though she couldn't quite fight the slight shudder that worked its way down her spine. Clearing her throat when both Abby and Tony looked at her in concern, she tried to change the subject. "Are Gibbs and McGee at the scene?"

"They went to check it out," Tony told her when Abby moved silently to stand at Ziva's side once again. "Gibbs got your message about the brakes not working."

"My car was serviced last week. The brakes were checked and were fine," Ziva informed them. "It may have been a deliberate attempt on my life."

Tony shrugged casually on seeing the alarm enter Abby's eyes. "It might've been, or it could be an accident. Maybe the guys at the garage missed something..."

Ziva shook her head. "My car was not affected yesterday."

"Brakes could've been on the way out and you wouldn't have known," Tony countered, darting a meaningful glance at the quiet woman to Ziva's side. "We'll know more once we've checked out the scene. Speaking of which, if you're sure you're okay...?"

"I am okay, Tony." She inclined her head a little in acknowledgement of his concern. "You should go and help Gibbs and McGee."

"I'll stay and make sure she gets to NCIS okay," Abby murmured, speaking up for the first time since the cause of the accident had been brought up. "Make sure they have the car towed to the Navy Yard, okay? I want to look at it before Metro's forensics team makes a mess of it."

"Sure thing, Abs. I bet the boss man is already on it." Tony lingered for a moment, looking as though he wanted to say something more but changed his mind at the last minute. With a wave, he walked out of the room, calling back over his shoulder that he'd see them both later.

Once he was gone, Abby moved to hug Ziva again, hugging her as tightly as she dared with the other woman's injuries. "I'm glad you're okay," she whispered, tears prickling her eyes as the thought of what could have happened crossed her mind and made her shiver.

Feeling shaken herself, Ziva accepted the embrace without complaint. "Me, too, Abby."


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three

* * *

The wreck of the car was towed to the Navy Yard, where Abby immediately set to work on trying to find a cause of the accident. It didn't take her long to confirm that the brakes had been tampered with and that the pipes that supplied the brake fluid to them had been severed.

After an hour of the car being in her possession, Abby was growing more and more frustrated – both with it and herself. It came to a head just minutes after she'd managed to get her finger trapped between the wrench she'd been using and the car itself and pushed herself out from underneath, cursing as her finger throbbed painfully.

The ding of the elevator bell didn't register at first, nor did the sound of footsteps moving towards her. When Gibbs put a hand on her shoulder, Abby cried out, spinning to face him with a glare as she held her injured finger with her good hand.

"Gibbs!"

The small grin that he'd been about to let show on his face disappeared at the look on hers. "Thought you'd heard me," he said with a casual shrug, as close to an apology as he would get. "You hurt yourself?"

"On the stupid, damn car," Abby muttered darkly, still glaring at him.

"Let me take a look." He tried to take hold of her injured hand but Abby pulled away, surprising both him and Tony, who'd followed him out of the elevator. "Abby."

"It's fine." Abby moved towards the car, turning her back on him. "If you're here for results, you're gonna be disappointed because I don't have any for you yet. I know the brakes were tampered with but I can't tell you what they used to cut the pipes and the fingerprints I took from underneath are still running through AFIS. Chances are they're gonna be the mechanic's who looked at her car last week, anyway, but I thought it was worth checking just in case."

"I need more than that to work with, Abby." Gibbs followed her, irritation beginning to colour his voice. "I need a name to go with those prints."

"You'll have it as soon as I do," Abby retorted coolly, still not looking at him. "Which'll be as soon as the computer's done searching but given how temperamental *that's* been of late, I can't promise them anytime soon. Maybe if I was allowed the upgrade I asked for last month..."

"Budget cuts affect us all, Abby," Gibbs told her shortly. "You know that as well as I do."

"Then you'll have to learn to have patience, because I'm only as good as what I've got to work with and right now, that's not much." She turned back around to glare at him again as he approached. "Seriously, Gibbs, I've got nothing. Unless you want me to take a guess at what I think they used, you're gonna have to come back later."

"Later isn't good enough."

"It'll have to be, whether you like it or not."

They stared at each other in silence for several tense moments, each glaring at the other. After an uncomfortable pause, Tony cleared his throat and moved to stand between them.

"Hey, so maybe we should go talk to Ziva's neighbours and see if they saw anything," he suggested, only to wince at the look Gibbs threw him. "Okay, I'm shutting up now."

"Don't glare at Tony."

"I'll glare at who I want."

"It's not fair to take it out on Tony when he hasn't done anything wrong," Abby insisted, her green eyes flashing.

Tony tried, once again, to get between the two of them as Gibbs' face coloured. Anger flashed in his boss's eyes, anger that Tony had never seen directed at the forensic specialist before. "Abs, really, it's fine..."

"Stay out of this, DiNozzo," Gibbs ordered, taking a step closer to the woman in front of him. "You wanna tell me what your problem is, Abby? This isn't just about a damn computer running too slow."

"No, you're right, it's not." Abby put her good hand on her hip. "You really want to know what the problem is, Gibbs? You want to know what's bugging me today? You," she continued without waiting for him to answer. "You'd think after eleven years you'd have figured out that science takes time. And you'd think after eleven years you'd be able to see what's right in front of you but no, not you. You click your fingers and you expect us all to come running and do what you say, even when it's not physically possible and I'm sick of it. I'm sick of you!"

She pushed past him, ignoring the somewhat stunned look on his face and stormed towards the stairwell door, too angry to stand and wait for the elevator to return.

Tony stood awkwardly, watching her go, torn between following her and staying to see what Gibbs wanted him to do. Because he was watching his boss so closely, only Tony saw the brief flicker of hurt that passed over his features before it disappeared behind the neutral mask Gibbs had perfected over the years.

"Go after her," Gibbs said eventually, "find out what the hell's gotten into her today."

"Yes, Boss." Tony started towards the door but glanced back over his shoulder before walking through the door. Gibbs hadn't moved.

After Tony had gone, Gibbs stood staring at the abandoned car for several moments more, wondering why it seemed a good day was always followed by one that was anything but.

* * *

Tony caught up to her just before she could shut the door to her lab closed and seal herself inside. He gave her a weak smile, biting back a relieved sigh when she strode away from him, letting him enter.

Following her inside, he watched her grab a Caf-Pow from the refrigerator unit in her lab before stalking through to her small office, practically throwing herself down onto her chair as she held the drink with one hand and picked up Bert, the stuffed hippo she loved so much, with the other.

"Abs..." Tony perched on the edge of her desk as she slurped the drink noisily and gave the hippo a squeeze hard enough to activate the squeaker inside and make it fart. "I'd ask if you're okay but I'm pretty sure the answer's no."

She sighed and set the drink down, most of her anger having dissipated on her walk up to her lab. "I'm tired," she admitted quietly, "and cranky."

"I'd kinda noticed that." He paused, watching her cheeks flood with colour and shame appear in her gaze. "You sure you're just tired?"

Abby nodded and wrapped both of her arms around Bert. "I haven't been sleeping well. More than usual for me, I mean," she added with a one-shouldered shrug. "And last night..." She shook her head and sighed again. "Guess I owe Gibbs an apology, huh?"

"Maybe." Tony watched her closely, choosing his words carefully. "Did something happen last night with you and Gibbs?"

Her eyes narrowed and her shoulders tensed. "What makes you think that…?"

Fighting the urge to hold his hands up at the look on her face, Tony shrugged. "Things just seem a little tense between the two of you today. And I know he drove you home last night…"

"Nothing happened." Her hands, still gripping the hippo, turned white at the knuckles. "That's half of the problem."

"You wanna talk about it?"

Abby managed a small smile but it didn't meet her eyes nor did it last for long. "I don't think so, as much as I appreciate the offer. I think the best thing to do is just to forget all about it and try to get over it. Him. You know what I mean."

The sympathetic expression on his face suggested he did. Tony had been her shoulder to cry on for a number of years, for everything and anything. Their close relationship had always been there but the death of Agent Caitlin Todd four years into their friendship had cemented the bond between them in ways nothing else could.

Tony reached out a hand and squeezed her shoulder. "If you change my mind and want to talk, you know where I am. And if you don't start sleeping, promise me you'll go to Ducky. He might be able to help."

"I promise." She reached up to cover his hand with her own, giving it a quick squeeze. Thanks, Tony. You're the best."

He grinned boyishly and got to his feet, winking before heading to the door. "That's what the ladies tell me."

The sound of her chuckles followed him out and Tony left her satisfied he'd done his part – or as much as he could, until she was ready to let him do more.

* * *

The list of people who might want her dead had only grown longer during her years at NCIS, not shorter as she'd at one time hoped. Still, as Ziva reviewed the names on the paper – the ones she could remember off the top of her head, not the ones she was sure would be discovered the more they looked into it, she felt her heart sink remembering what she'd done to justify their anger and hatred.

She'd worked at NCIS for over six years and had become close to those she worked with there, close enough to call them family. They were a better family to her than her own had ever been in a lot of ways, especially given half of the names on the list were there because of things she'd been ordered to do by her father, Eli David, the Director of Mossad. Still, there were still secrets she kept from them, missions she'd accomplished to stilted praise from her father but that she couldn't bring herself to feel proud about.

Ziva knew she was no longer alone even before the man who'd moved to stand beside her at the railing overlooking the squad room cleared his throat. She tilted her head, acknowledging his presence without speaking.

"I hope you don't mind the intrusion," Ducky started quietly, "but you appear troubled, my dear. Are your injuries bothering you?"

"Not at all," she lied smoothly, her smile fleeting. Subconsciously, she moved the hand holding the paper to keep him from seeing the names she'd written on it. "The painkillers I was given appear to be doing their job."

"I see." Ducky's tone suggested he didn't believe her but, like the gentleman he was, he didn't pry. "Then there's something else. Perhaps I can be of assistance...?"

Ziva hesitated, wanting so much to be able to open up to him but afraid of his reaction to her fears. Ducky was one of the most supportive people she knew, and one of the least judgemental. She knew he had skeletons of his own, too, ones he'd been reluctant to share with them all despite the close bonds they had to one another.

"I have been making a list of people I believe could be behind the... incident," she said eventually, lowering her gaze to the sheet of paper in her hand. "Some of them are related to my work at NCIS but many... Many are not."

"Ah, I see." Ducky was silent for a moment, giving her a chance to continue if she chose to. "Am I to assume that they're related to the work you did with Mossad?"

She couldn't keep herself from tensing, or from shooting a quick, questioning glance in his direction. "They may be," she said eventually, looking away. In the squad room below, she watched Tony and McGee bicker over something unimportant, a way, she knew, of easing the growing tension as the investigation continued. "There are things I have done that I am not proud of, Ducky."

His hand, warm and strong, settled on her arm and squeezed supportively. "We all have, my dear. Every one of us."

"Not like me," she murmured with a sigh, hating the way her eyes stung. "I do not want to acknowledge them, let alone share them with... with people I have come to care about."

"Do you think that would change if you told us?" Ducky kept his voice quiet. His eyes, when she met them with her own, were soft and full of understanding. "You seem to have forgotten, Ziva, that you are a part of this family. A very important part. You didn't see us when we were told you were missing, when we thought you were dead..." He let his voice trail off and shook his head. "Nothing you share with us will change that. We love you, and that will never change."

Unable to look him in the eye, not trusting herself to be able to hold it together if she saw the compassion and affection she could hear in his voice on his face, Ziva could only nod. She moved a hand to cover his on her arm and squeezed his fingers in thanks, moving it back to the railing after a few moments.

"We're here for you, Ziva, whenever you're ready to let us help you," Ducky told her quietly.

He lingered a few moments more before leaving her alone to watch her teammates, her family, in silence a little while longer.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks to Lisa, my lovely proofreader, and to all of you for the comments._

Part Four

* * *

It was a frustrated man who sat across from him, barely able to stay in his seat as his hand tightened around the plastic receiver of the phone he held.

"The bitch is alive. She survived," was all he said, his features arranged in a disgruntled expression.

The prisoner in the orange jumpsuit felt his jaw drop, glancing over his shoulder at the guard before leaning closer to the plastic window, his voice dropping to below a whisper. "How can she still be alive? You said the brakes were going to fail, that her car would be totalled?"

"She swerved," his visitor informed him darkly. "Some idiot went to cross the road so she tried to hit the brakes early. If she hadn't..."

If she hadn't, she wouldn't have realised until she was near the end of the street, nearing the bend in the road that would take her away from the river. If she hadn't, there would have been no buildings to crash into, just the watery grave they'd meticulously planned for her.

The man in the orange jumpsuit didn't comment; he didn't know what to say. Nothing he could think of would make his visitor feel better, and nothing would ease the feeling beginning to blossom in the pit of his stomach that he'd made a serious mistake in going along with his visitor's plans. His heart was pounding, pushing the blood through his veins at a dizzying rate.

"It'll be okay," the man visiting him said after a long pause. He attempted a smile but it was obviously forced. "The next one won't be so lucky."

* * *

It felt strange to be walking into Ziva's apartment block when they weren't going to see the woman in question. McGee and Tony exchanged a look as they used the key she'd given them to get past the security door, each checking around uneasily to see if they could spot anyone that looked out of place or seemed suspicious.

Both were a little disappointed when they didn't.

In silence, which was unusual for them, they made their way up to the top floor of the building and began systematically knocking on doors, questioning those who answered about what had happened the night before, asking whether they'd seen anyone unusual lurking around the cars parked in the street.

Most of the neighbours they spoke to expressed concern when they heard about the accident, some looked confused and didn't seem to know who Ziva was. No one had witnessed anything and they were beginning to get frustrated when they knocked on the final door, that of the neighbour who lived in the apartment directly below Ziva's own.

The man who answered joined the majority in being concerned about the Israeli when they explained what had happened. "Oh, God, is she okay? I saw her just this morning – she always says hello when I see her in the hall."

Tony gave him a small smile, a little amused at the evident crush the man seemed to have on their colleague. "She'll be fine. What we really need to know is if you saw anyone acting suspiciously in the area last night, anyone who looked like they didn't belong or were new to the area?"

"You think it was deliberate?" The man – Aaron Kirk – stared at them in shock, his blue eyes wide. "Why would anyone want to hurt Ziva? She seems so nice! And – and she's a cop, right? I'm sure someone said she was a cop..."

"NCIS," McGee corrected, fighting the urge to show him his badge again. "We're considering all possibilities at this point," he lied smoothly, "but, in the interests of our investigation, it could help us narrow down what actually happened if you can remember whether or not you saw someone last night."

Aaron frowned, leaning against the doorframe. His eyes narrowed as an expression of concentration passed over his features. "There was a guy hanging around the street when I got in last night," he said eventually, slowly as if considering his words. "I didn't see him clearly but I remember thinking he looked jumpy, especially when he saw me."

Both McGee and Tony stood up straighter, tension filling them. "What time would this have been?" Tony asked tersely.

"Around midnight, maybe? I was at a friend's house... A lady friend," Aaron clarified with a lopsided grin. "I didn't get back till late."

"Could you describe him for us?" McGee reached into his pocket and pulled out his notepad and pen. "Anything would help, what clothes he was wearing, whether he was tall or short, thin or thick build..."

"Mid-height," Aaron said after a moment, "thin, almost scrawny, I'd say. He was wearing jeans, couldn't tell you what colour, and white sneakers. I remember that because I thought they stood out. A dark jacket, not sure what colour because it was dark..." He shook his head and shrugged. "I'd say he was young, younger than us, but I don't know for sure. That's just... That's the impression I got. I can't really tell you any more than that, I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. Thanks." McGee finished writing everything down and flashed him a smile. "You've given us something to work with, which is more than we had before so thank you."

Aaron's expression brightened visibly at the thanks. He stood straighter and gave them a nod. "Tell Ziva I hope she's okay?"

Tony nodded, distracted, and reached into his cell phone so he could update Gibbs and Ziva herself. "Will do. Thanks for your help."

The two agents left the building feeling as though they were finally getting somewhere, both hoping they'd taken the first pivotal step towards catching the people responsible.

* * *

There was no music playing to greet him as he stepped off the elevator, something Gibbs knew was never a good sign. His hand tightening around the Caf-Pow he'd brought her as a peace offering, he walked into the lab cautiously, his eyes scanning the room for the forensic specialist.

She sat at her computer, her back to him. He thought he saw her tense as he approached but she made no move to acknowledge his presence. Setting the Caf-Pow down on the workbench beside her, Gibbs studied her when she still didn't react.

Her face was paler than usual, the shadows under her eyes more pronounced. A thin sheen of perspiration covered her brow but, as he watched, she lifted an unsteady hand and wiped it away.

Her eyes were fixed on the screen in front of her so Gibbs let his own gaze linger on her for a while longer. It was only when she reached for the new Caf-Pow he'd put down beside her that he turned his attention to her computer screen and joined her in watching the security footage she'd got from the CCTV cameras in the area of Ziva's apartment.

"You find anything?" He asked after several long moments of silence stretched out into minutes. He braced himself for a flare of her temper and was both relieved and concerned when it didn't come.

Abby shrugged one shoulder, taking a long slurp from her drink before answering. "Nothing yet."

Her answer was short, her voice subdued. Gibbs looked at her in concern. "You feeling okay, Abby?"

"Fine."

Her fingers moved over the keyboard, pausing the footage before he could press her. He glanced back at the screen, eyes narrowing at the shadowy figure that had appeared in between two cars parked on the street outside Ziva's apartment – one of them belonging to the woman in question.

"He looks familiar," Gibbs murmured, though the man's face was partially obscured by the shadows cast by the overhead street lights. "Can you get a close up...?"

Abby did as he asked without comment, a sigh the only sound to escape her.

The image was too grainy, too dark to make out any distinct features but Gibbs was certain the man he was looking at was the person responsible for tampering with Ziva's brakes.

"I'll start a search," Abby said before he could comment, her voice uncharacteristically flat. "It's not likely we'll get a match without a clearer picture of his face but something might pop."

"Great." He hesitated, knowing it was his cue to leave but reluctant to do so with so much tension between them. "That's good work, Abby."

Instead of kissing her cheek, he lay his hand on her shoulder for a brief moment, giving it a squeeze before leaving the lab.

He missed the tear that ran down her cheek or the desolate expression that arranged her features as she turned her head and looked at the image of a woman who couldn't possibly be there.

"I told you, he's just not interested," Abby murmured, a second tear joining the first.

The hallucinated form of Kate Todd stared back.

* * *

No fingerprints and no results in the search for the man Ziva's neighbour had seen. McGee kicked his door shut, feeling an ounce of satisfaction at the way it banged back. He regretted it, though, when his foot began to ache and his dog, Jethro, barked as if in admonition.

Pausing to stroke the dog behind his ears and reassure him that all was well, McGee continued on his way to his bedroom, shedding his clothes on the way.

In no time at all, he was back in the living room, his suit and shirt exchanged for a comfortable MIT t-shirt and sweat pants. Detouring to the kitchen to give Jethro his evening meal and grab a bottle of beer for himself, he returned to the living room to sit at the desk where his prized possession sat waiting for him.

The old-fashioned typewriter had been an impulse purchase on an internet auction site some years ago and he hadn't looked back since. Not only had it helped him produce two bestselling novels he'd had published under his penname of Thom E. Gemcity, it had also withstood various attempts at taking out his frustration on the keys.

Writing, even when he had no intention of letting anyone see the end result, did wonders for improving his mood. It didn't matter if the words on the page didn't make sense or if he tore the pages from the typewriter and shredded them almost immediately, just the act alone managed to appease him in ways nothing else could.

As if sensing his master's mood, Jethro settled himself on the rug in front of the fire and soon began to snore, the soft noise joining the sound of his fingers tapping the keys.

Engrossed in his words, in creating a world of his own and characters to inhabit it, McGee didn't notice the faint scent of smoke slipping beneath the door into his apartment.


	5. Chapter 5

Part Five

* * *

For the second time in as many days, the NCIS agents found themselves visiting one of their own in hospital. The same nurse who had treated Ziva the day before greeted them, less stressed with McGee as a patient than she had been with Ziva, and commented that maybe they should have their own room.

A glare from Gibbs made sure that she quickly made herself scarce.

"I'll be free to leave in a few hours," McGee told them, his voice muffled through the oxygen mask he wore. "The Doctor said I was lucky it wasn't more serious than smoke inhalation."

Having already visited what remained of the agent's apartment, his colleagues couldn't help but silently agree.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Abby leaned over to give him a hug. "I'm glad you're okay, Timmy."

"Me, too, Abs." He managed a smile through the mask, his eyes closing briefly as a wave of exhaustion passed over him.

"We should let you rest," Ziva murmured, patting his hand where she stood on the other side of his bed.

"I'm okay." A yawn interrupted him and McGee looked sheepish. "Before you go... Jethro...?"

It was Abby who answered, the only one present who was as attached to his dog as he was. She was the one who'd fallen for the dog first, who'd named him after Gibbs and who'd convinced McGee to adopt him when her own landlord had refused to let her take him. "He's doing okay," she answered quickly, a flash of a smile on her face. "He's going to have to stay at the vets for a few days but they said he'll make a full recovery."

Temporarily appeased, McGee sank back against the pillows. His gaze shifted from Abby to Tony and Gibbs, who stood back from the bed. "My apartment...?"

He didn't miss the way Tony looked at Gibbs as if for guidance, or the way Gibbs himself seemed to sigh before answering. "It doesn't look good, Tim," Gibbs said honestly. "What wasn't damaged by the fire was hit by the smoke."

"We'll salvage what we can," Tony chimed in immediately. "I told the guys working the scene to bring what they can to my place. You can keep it there until... until you're back on your feet."

"Until I find somewhere else," McGee finished for him, his expression grim. "Guess I really am lucky."

"It took two hours for them to put out the fire after everyone was evacuated," Ziva informed him quietly. "You and everyone else are very lucky to be alive."

McGee gave a small nod in acknowledgement. "Guess it's too much to hope it was an accident?"

The looks exchanged by the others in the room confirmed his sinking suspicions.

"The official cause of the fire is faulty wiring," Gibbs informed him seriously. "We suspect the wires were tampered with deliberately."

The statement was met with silence as the grim reality sank in; the attempt on Ziva's life coupled with the attempt on his own meant that someone was out to hurt all of them.

And it meant someone else would no doubt be targeted next.

* * *

It didn't take long for them to get the evidence they needed to prove that the fire had been started deliberately and it didn't take long for McGee to be released from hospital. He sat silently in the car beside Tony as the senior agent drove him home to see what remained of his apartment and he stood in the doorway in silence as he surveyed the wreckage that was once his home.

His record collection, his typewriter, the small network of computers he and his sister, Sarah, had built from scratch... All of it was gone, all of it destroyed by the fire.

McGee knew his apartment wasn't the only one affected by what had happened and he felt guilty knowing that his neighbours had suffered when he had been the intended target.

Tony's hand on his shoulder startled him and he jumped, turning his head to find his teammate standing beside him. The look on Tony's face was serious, concern in his eyes instead of amusement at having surprised him.

"You're welcome to stay at my place as long as you need," Tony told him quietly, letting his hand drop back to his side a little awkwardly. "The stuff the guys could recover is already there so... it makes sense."

"Thanks, Tony." McGee's smile was genuine, even if it didn't last as long as he would have liked. His mind was spinning with thoughts of everything he had to take care of, of contacting his insurance company, trying to remember what he'd lost and where replacements, if possible, could be sought. "I appreciate that."

Tony nodded, dropping his gaze. "Ah, the boss said the dog can stay with him when the vet lets him go. I'd have the mutt at my place but I think the neighbours would complain. Mrs. Henson across the hall went crazy when the Marley kids let it slip they have a cat."

"Gibbs offered?" Surprise on his face, McGee let Tony lead him from the shell that had once been his home. "I thought he'd have asked Ducky..."

"Think he's trying to make it up to Abby for something." Tony shrugged and ducked under the tape that cordoned off the apartment, waiting until McGee did the same thing before heading out of the building, away from the heady scent of smoke and burnt wood. "Don't know what, but I hope they make up soon. Abs really isn't acting like herself."

Concern for his friend and former flame made McGee frown. "Abby could be a target," he found himself saying as he got into the car. "I'm surprised Gibbs hasn't made her move in with him yet."

"He's asked," Tony confided, slipping into the car behind the wheel. "I think he's hoping having the dog there will make Abby more likely to agree since she keeps saying no at the moment."

"She does love the dog," McGee agreed, leaning back in his seat as Tony started the engine. He felt tired, the events of the last forty-eight hours having taken its toll.

Sensing his exhaustion, Tony let the subject drop and they completed the rest of their drive to Tony's apartment in silence.

* * *

Due to the events of the last few days, McGee soon decided to call it a night, heading to the spare room in Tony's apartment with slow steps and drooping eyes. Tony bid him goodnight but didn't share his friend's exhaustion, feeling full of restless energy instead.

After attempting to watch several movies, none of which helped calm him down, Tony scribbled a quick note for his temporary roommate and grabbed his gym bag, telling himself a workout would not only help him sleep but would also help him deal with the sense of helplessness he felt.

Two of the people he cared about most had been injured and another two were suffering in silence and there was nothing he could do about it.

Their search for the man responsible for both tampering with Ziva's brakes and with the wiring in McGee's apartment block seemed to have hit a wall; no one had witnessed anyone acting suspiciously in the vicinity of McGee's apartment and the grainy image Abby had pulled from the security footage outside of Ziva's place was too poor quality to have found a match in the various databases she used.

As for Abby and Gibbs... Tony sighed and quickened his pace, desperately needing something to take his mind off everything. Their relationship was the one thing he would never consider interfering in but he was the first to admit that, if there was something wrong between them, it would ultimately end up affecting every member of the team. Abby, Tony had theorised once after too much tequila courtesy of the forensic specialist, was like the heart of the team while Gibbs, though he'd never in a million years tell his boss, was like the soul. Without one, they weren't a complete, coherent unit. Without them both...

Tony shuddered and turned the corner, the bright luminous sign of his gym like a beacon of relief up ahead.

He hoped they worked it out, whatever it was, soon and he hoped, for all of their sakes, that they had a break in their investigation as to who was after them before anyone else was hurt.

* * *

Two men followed their target, swaggering down the street. One was overly confident, the other fuelled by adrenaline. Both had their eyes fixed firmly on the NCIS agent walking ahead of them.

They waited, impatiently for the most part as he disappeared inside the gym, leaning against the wall outside until he made a reappearance.

"We should have done it on the way here," one whispered to the other, frustration colouring his voice.

The other shook his head, his expression calculating. "He'll be an easier target once he's exhausted himself," he explained patiently to his companion. "Much easier to take out."

"We're lucky he left the apartment," the first man muttered. "How did you know...?"

The second shrugged his shoulders, his gaze fixed on the brightly lit doorway to the gym. "I've studied him. I've studied all of them. I know how they think, how they act. I know them better than they know themselves."

The first man was temporarily appeased but, as the minutes ticked by, grew restless again. "You sure about doing it this way? We'd planned another accident for him..."

"Accidents aren't working," the second man shot back, the glare on his face showing he clearly blamed the first for the lack of a satisfying result. While he'd taken responsibility for tampering with the brakes, it was his companion who'd promised a fireworks display the NCIS agents wouldn't forget – promising more than he'd been able to deliver. "At least this way, he'll suffer for sure."

"And after?" The first man stared at him intently. "You haven't told us what you plan for the last one."

The second man shrugged, a twisted smile on his lips. "There'll still be one to go before we get to him."

It took a moment for the first to get it, to understand what his companion meant. When it sunk in, his eyes widened and he stared at the second man in shocked confusion. "You promised she wouldn't be hurt... You promised him..."

"He's hardly in a position to stop me." The second shrugged again. "He'll thank me in the end. He could do better."

"He loves her."

"He's pathetic. She's the one who sent him down in the first place. And she helped build the case against me." The second man scowled darkly. "She needs to suffer just like the rest of them."

"That wasn't part of the plan." The first man shook his head and backed away. "He'll be furious. No, he'll be heartbroken..."

"He'll get over it." The second man glared at him. "What's it to you, anyway? It's not like any of them mean anything to you. You're only here because of him, and I'm telling you, this is what's best for him. She'll only hurt him again if you let her."

The first man hesitated, torn between wanting to believe him and wanting to keep a promise to a man he considered one of his closest friends. "What do you have in mind for her?" He asked eventually, keeping his voice low even though there was no one around to overhear.

The second man grinned, a gleam in his eye that was unmistakable. "It's already started for her."

The doors to the gym opened before the first could question him further and their intended target for that evening walked out. Both men straightened and edged back into the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.

* * *

It was a sombre group that met the following morning, gathered around a gurney in the morgue at NCIS. Ducky glanced up when the doors to his domain opened, his expression solemn, before returning his attention to his patient.

"Ow, Duck, not so hard."

"It would be less painful, Anthony, if you stayed still like I asked," Ducky replied with an exasperated sigh that did nothing to hide his relief. "Even less so if you'd gone to the hospital like I suggested."

Tony shook his head without thinking, wincing when the action only caused his injuries to hurt more. "No hospitals. Not again. Think we've all seen too much of them recently."

Abby approached him cautiously, her toy hippo, Bert, tucked under one arm. She reached out and took his hand, wary of hugging him as the Medical Examiner continued to stitch and bandage Tony's injuries.

"I'm okay, Abs," Tony tried to reassure her, squeezing her hand with as much strength as he could muster. "They weren't that strong."

"They?" Gibbs took a step closer, his blue eyes intent. "There were two?"

"This time, yeah." Tony flinched when Ducky touched a particularly bruised area of his face. "One grabbed me from behind, the other hit me from the front. One of them said something about 'finally being able to make one of them pay'. I get the feeling they're upset their plans for Ziva and McGee didn't work out like they'd hoped."

"Did you get a look at them? Or recognise anything about their voices, like an accent or...?"

As Gibbs questioned him, Abby moved away, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. No one had heard it ring but, as Tony watched her out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the screen was lit up, signalling an incoming call.

Turning her back on them, Abby answered it and murmured something they couldn't hear before hanging up, turning back to them. Her unnaturally pale cheeks flushed with an unhealthy colour when she noticed she was being watched.

"There was no accent that I can remember," Tony answered slowly, diverting the attention from the forensic specialist back to himself. "And I didn't get a good look at either of them, sorry, boss. It all seemed to happen so quick..."

"It's okay, Tony." A note of reassurance crept into Gibbs' voice. "A couple of the shops in the area have surveillance footage. Maybe we'll pick something up from there."

"I'm on it," McGee volunteered instantly, turning on his heel to head towards the doors.

"Not so fast, McGee." Gibbs stopped him before he could leave. "While everyone's here, we should make plans on how we're going to handle this. It's obvious that whoever is behind this won't give up and that all of us are potential targets. The Director suggested we find a way of sticking together and I agree with him. No one should go anywhere alone."

No one protested but then he hadn't expected them to. Gibbs sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking towards the doors when he heard them open with a gentle hiss.

Director Leon Vance walking through them wasn't a surprise but the man who joined him, grinning widely in greeting was.

"Hey, Probie," former NCIS Special Agent Mike Franks greeted him. "Hear you've got a bit of a situation on your hands."


	6. Chapter 6

Part Six

* * *

In the end, they reached a compromise. Director Vance got his wish and the team were moved temporarily into a safe house, Gibbs got his way and they were all allowed to continue working the case on the condition that they used a buddy system – no one went anywhere without someone else with them, with the only exception being if they were safe inside the walls of NCIS Headquarters.

Mike Franks had been drafted in to act as added security for the team since three of the four agents on it were still recovering in some way from the previous attempts on their lives. Ziva insisted she was fine and returned to work while McGee was allowed back on reduced hours. Tony, on the other hand, was confined to the safe house under the watchful eye of Franks.

The group met every evening and debriefed the housebound agent on the progress they made each day though there was frustratingly little to tell him about.

"Abby hasn't been able to pinpoint one person to all three crimes," McGee informed Tony around a mouthful of Chinese takeaway. "And there's been no luck so far with the fibres she found on your clothes."

"Everyone we have spoken to who was in the area when you were attacked claims they saw nothing," Ziva added, deftly using her chopsticks to pick some noodles out of the carton in her hand. "It appears they were careful in choosing a location that was well concealed from those in the vicinity."

Remembering the dark corner he'd been dragged around and the alley with only one streetlight in working order, Tony shuddered. "So we're looking for at least one guy with brains."

"We are looking for someone who knows us well," Ziva agreed. "Someone who has had the opportunity to study us."

Gibbs chose that moment to drop a large stack of files on the table, making them all jump, before sitting in an empty chair and grabbing a carton of rice. "We're looking for someone with a grudge."

Tony set his own carton aside and eyed the files warily. "And I'm guessing we have to try and find him somewhere in there...?"

"Names of everyone we've sent down, separated by year, who's been released in the last twelve months." Gibbs confirmed. "Everyone grab a file."

The team groaned but did as he asked. Mike smirked at them and leaned back in his chair. The smile slipped from his face as he noticed Abby pacing back and forth in the living room and he got up to go and investigate.

* * *

"Abby, you have to listen to me, please..."

"No! No, I don't have to do anything you tell me to do!" Abby hissed into the receiver, the hand that wasn't gripping the phone rubbing her temples. "Stop calling me, stop thinking about me, forget I exist at all like I'm trying to do with you!"

"Abby, baby, please... You don't know..."

She hung up with a growl of frustration, shutting the phone with a resounding slap.

"Problems, darlin'?" Mike's voice startled her and she spun around to face him, a hand pressed against her racing heart. "Sorry, Abby, didn't mean to startle you." He moved towards her when her already pale face grew paler, steadying her with an arm around her waist when her knees began to buckle. "You comin' down with something?"

"I'm just tired," Abby murmured, leaning against him as he led her to the couch. She looked up towards the doorway, relief he didn't miss passing over her features when she realised no one else was there and no one else had witnessed her momentary show of weakness. "It's not easy to sleep knowing all of this is going on."

"I'll bet." Mike eased his arm from around her, a frown appearing on his face as he studied her. Her face was damp with perspiration, her brow furrowed as if in pain. The bags under her eyes suggested a couple of weeks without a good night's sleep, not just the four days he knew it had been. He tried to remember if he'd seen her eat since the group had moved into the safe house and came up blank, recalling instead the way she always seemed to find something else to do when they were deciding what to have for dinner. "Maybe we should get the doc to take a look at you..."

Abby shook her head gingerly, a hand still pressed to her chest. Her heart raced beneath her fingertips, making her feel dizzy, making her feel sick. "He's got enough on his mind, Mike. They all do. I'm probably just coming down with a cold... Considering everything the others have been through, it doesn't seem like a big deal."

Understanding her reluctance to worry anyone, Mike nodded but still couldn't resist reaching out to touch her forehead. She felt cool to the touch, much to his relief, but he couldn't keep himself from worrying about her regardless. "If it gets worse, you let me know, darlin'. I know you don't want to worry Probie and the others but you can come to me. Anytime."

"Thanks, Mike." Her smile was weak, her green eyes dull. "Appreciate it."

He sat beside her in silence for a few moments, watching her close her eyes. After enough time had passed for her shoulders to slump, suggesting she was a little more relaxed, Mike cleared his throat softly. "So you wanna tell me about the phone calls...?"

Her eyes flew open, guilt and horror flashing in their depths. She looked over at the doorway once more before turning her attention back to him, a pleading look on her face. "You can't tell them, Mike. They don't need to know. I... I've got it under control, okay? Really."

"Got what under control, Abby?" Dropping his voice out of respect for her, Mike watched her intently. "Sounded to me like you've got trouble on your hands."

"It's not related to this case," she told him quietly, easily reading the concern in his face. "It's... An ex-boyfriend keeps calling me but I know he's not involved in this. It'd be pretty hard; Mikel's still in prison. I checked."

"Mikel," Mike repeated the name, his eyes narrowed. "He the guy who stalked you? Planned on staging your suicide if you didn't take him back?"

Abby stared at him, stunned. "How do you know...?"

"Probie talked in Mexico," Mike shrugged. "Tequila and beer is a bad combination but has a way of loosening tongues. He talked about all of you but mostly you."

She stared at him, obviously torn, wanting to believe him but the ache in her heart wouldn't let her. "So he told you about Mikel, which means you know he's still behind bars and won't be up for parole for at least another year. I'll worry about him getting out then but for now..."

"For now you'll let him harass you over the phone and won't let the people who care about you most know what's wrong." Disapproval coloured his tone. "They could help, you know. Reporting it could revoke his phone privileges... or Probie and I could pay him a little visit..."

She shook her head vehemently. "No, Mike, that's exactly what I don't want. Gibbs would go crazy and Mikel... Mikel would think getting a visit from either of you would mean I still think about him, which I don't. It's giving him what he wants. Please, Mike, don't tell them... Don't tell Gibbs. I... I'll do it myself once they've caught the guys trying to kill us all. I promise. Please, Mike. Please?"

His gut told him he was making a mistake but Mike had never been able to turn down a woman who looked at him with big, pleading eyes. As he'd had a soft spot for Abby since the day he'd met her, the unusual young woman worming her way into his affections without him really being aware of it, she was all the harder to resist.

With a sigh, he nodded reluctantly, dropping his gaze. "You tell him the moment this is over," he told her quietly. "Or I will."

"You won't have to." She gave him a bright smile that didn't reach her tired eyes and pushed herself up, leaning in to kiss his cheek before getting to her feet. She swayed a little at first but managed to hold it together long enough to walk across the room towards the stairs. "Night, Mike."

"Night, Abby. Sleep well."

She made it up to her room without seeing anyone else, her legs giving way beneath her the moment the door was shut behind her and she no longer had to maintain the facade.

"You need to tell someone, Abby." The voice was desperate, pleading. It was also entirely in her head. Abby tilted her head back and stared at Kate as the dead agent knelt on the floor beside her, reaching out to her. Her hand never reached Abby's own. "Please, Abby. You know this isn't right. You know you need help."

"I'm fine," Abby murmured, closing her eyes against the vision in front of her, curling into a ball on the floor. "I'm fine."


	7. Chapter 7

Part Seven

* * *

She felt hot one moment, cold the next. The muscles in her arms and legs kept cramping, twitching of their own accord. Her hands shook, her heart raced and she was finding it increasingly difficult to catch her breath.

Still, Abby forced herself to work through it. She blamed it on another sleepless night and reached for the Caf-Pow on her desk, taking a deep drink of it to try and settle herself.

It didn't work.

The computer screen swam in front of her, the boxes on display showing the progress of the search blurring into one another. Her hand clenched, then relaxed and for a moment she thought she was going to be sick.

"Keep it together, Abby," she told herself quietly, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. "You're close to something. Definitely close to something."

"Abby."

The voice went ignored, as did the spectre of the woman it belonged to. "Keep working," she told herself, her voice echoing in the otherwise quiet lab. Her head ached too much for music, the ringing in her ears more than enough noise for her to have to deal with. "Just... get it done."

"Abby, stop. Please."

"You're not real. You're not here." Trying to ignore her, Abby put down the Caf-Pow and put her hands over her ears. "You're not here, I can't hear you."

"Please, Abby, you're sick. You need help."

Kate's pleading went ignored, as did the cell phone that began to ring, the usually happy tune grating on Abby's nerves.

Picking up her drink, she fled the lab, shutting herself behind the glass door in her office. All but crumpling onto the floor beside her desk, she screwed her eyes shut and tried to block out the ringing of the phone and the ringing in her ears.

"Abby..." Desperation dripped from Kate's voice. "You've got to listen to me, honey. Even if I'm not real, I'm something you've created. I'm part of you, and that part of you knows you need help."

Abby shook her head wordlessly and immediately regretted the action as a wave of nausea passed over. Lying down, pressing her warm face against the cool floor, tears slipped down her cheeks as her stomach cramped, pain slicing through her.

The ringing in her ears increased in pitch and volume until her body couldn't take anymore and gave into the sweet relief of oblivion.

In the lab, both her cell phone and desk phone rang in vain.

* * *

"There is no answer from Abby's lab," Ziva reported, her features arranged in an expression of concern as she met Gibbs' gaze. "I could go down and check..."

"I'll go." Gibbs was already heading towards the elevators, the sense of unease he'd woken up with increasing as the day went by. He didn't have to look over his shoulder to know both Ziva and McGee were following, didn't need to see the worry on their faces to know they felt it, too.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

Abby hadn't been acting like herself for days and, although they were all on edge, there was something about the way she was behaving that caused alarm bells to ring in his head. He knew Mike was concerned about her – Tony, too – and had noticed how she seemed to be avoiding being in a room with him ever since their argument the day of Ziva's accident.

It was more than just hurt feelings and a case of being angry with him; she was hiding something from him and he hit himself mentally for not realising it sooner.

Deciding the elevator wasn't quick enough, he changed direction and went for the stairs instead, taking them two at a time in his haste to get to her.

The lab was eerily quiet when he arrived, though the ringing of her cell phone shattered it even as he walked further into the room.

It took a further minute before he saw her, and when he did, he thought his heart might stop.

She lay on the floor, in a pool of what he guessed was Caf-Pow from the tipped over container beside her. It didn't look like she was breathing.

"Someone shut that damn phone off. And call Ducky," he ordered over his shoulder, knowing one or both of the agents behind him would already be on the case. Striding towards the doors, he felt momentary relief that they opened to admit him, having been gripped by fear for a split-second that she'd locked herself inside.

Dropping to his knees beside her, ignoring the liquid that seeped through the material of his pants and soaked his skin, Gibbs reached out a hand he couldn't quite keep steady to feel for a pulse.

At first, he couldn't detect one.

After several heart-stopping moments, he felt a fluttering sensation beneath his fingertips, too fast and too faint to be normal.

"Abby..." He moved his hand and pushed her hair from her face, the pallor startling him. "Abby, can you hear me?"

She didn't stir.

The sound of hurried footsteps alerted him to Ducky's arrival but Gibbs didn't turn around, too enraptured by the woman on the floor in front of him to acknowledge the medical examiner.

Doing his best to keep close to her while Ducky looked her over, Gibbs found himself wrapping his fingers around one of Abby's limp hands, willing her to wake up, pleading with her mentally to open her eyes.

"Call an ambulance, now," Ducky instructed, not caring which of the three people standing behind them did it as long as the order broke through the stupor at least one of them was in. "This isn't good, Jethro. This isn't good at all."

"What... What's wrong with her?" It took two attempts at getting his voice to work and even then it sounded far more shaken than he would have liked. Gibbs couldn't bring himself to look away from her, missing the fleeting expression that passed over Ducky's features. "Duck?"

"I don't know, Jethro." Ducky shook his head, his hand lingering at Abby's neck, constantly monitoring her unsteady pulse. "Without proper testing, it would be difficult to say for certain but..."

Patience, especially in matters relating to Abby unless it involved dealings with the woman herself, had never been his strong suit. "But what, Ducky?"

"But I'd have to say, from the dilation of her pupils, the rapid and weak pulse, the lack of any outward injuries... I'd say it looks like she's been poisoned."

"Poisoned...?" At the doctor's diagnosis, Gibbs tore his gaze away from the unconscious woman, horror dawning in his eyes. "She's their next target?"

"I'd say that's a reasonable assumption," Ducky answered, worry shining in the depths of his blue eyes. "We have to get her to a hospital soon, Jethro. Unless we can find out what they've done to her and counteract it soon..."

"She could die," Gibbs finished for him, a sense of grief he'd only just managed to put behind him returning swiftly. "You're telling me Abby could die."


	8. Chapter 8

_Note: Just wanted to say thank you to everyone who's supported this story/me so far, and that I hope you keep enjoying it. I also want to say that I know there are some __similarities _between a couple of scenes in this part, and some in NCISlove's fantastic, Accidents Can Happen (which, if you're not reading, you really, really should). That's what comes of being so on the same wavelength with someone so much that you kinda share a brain cell or two! 

_And again, my thanks to Lisa for being a proofreading star!_Part Eight

* * *

The NCIS forensic specialist was taken to the intensive care ward rather than the emergency room the others had been treated in. Within minutes of being admitted, a team of doctors and nurses swarmed over her, whisking her off in one direction as another nurse attempted to keep the agents who'd accompanied her from following.

"You can't go through there," the woman protested, folding her arms over her chest. "I'm sorry, Sir, but only permitted members of staff are allowed through those doors."

Gibbs glared at her but it had no effect.

"You can glare at me all you like but if you try getting past me, I'll have to call security and have you escorted out of here." The nurse – Martha, according to her name badge, gave him a stern look that reminded him of his mother. "That wouldn't do either you or your friend any good."

He wanted to protest that she wasn't his friend, that she was far more than that, but he remembered with a surge of regret that that wasn't true. If things had been different, if he hadn't pulled away from her not more than a few nights ago...

"Jethro." Ducky's calming voice, and the hand he placed on his arm, kept him from trying to go through the double doors anyway. "Why don't we go and sit in the waiting room? The others will be here soon and they'll want to know what happened."

Ziva and McGee had returned to the safe house to pick up Mike and Tony, all of them agreeing silently that there was safety in numbers and that they should all be together just in case.

Just in case another attempt was made on someone else's life, just in case Abby didn't make it through the attempt on hers...

Gibbs shook himself mentally, trying not to let his thoughts dwell on that possibility but the thought kept coming back to him, tormenting him.

Wordlessly, he let Ducky lead him to the private waiting area Martha directed them to, missing the flash of sympathetic understanding on the nurse's face.

"I can't lose her, Ducky," he mumbled, sitting down and letting his head rest in his hands. His chest hurt at the thought but, at the same time, he felt strangely numb. Almost disconnected. "I didn't tell her..."

Ducky sat beside him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder but was unable to find any words of comfort that might help. He had suspected for a long time that his old friend harboured feelings for the forensic specialist and he knew, from many a conversation with Abby herself, that those feelings were returned. Just as he knew, with a slight ache in his own heart, that neither of them had acted on those feelings. He'd thought – hoped, maybe – that they'd have the chance after Gibbs had finally seemed able to find peace and put the ghosts of his past behind him but that, it seemed, was not part of fate's plan.

The arrival of the others saved Ducky from having to think of something to say and it also gave Gibbs an excuse to compose himself behind the carefully constructed mask he wore so often at work.

"Where is she? How is she?" It was Tony who asked, looking as frantic as Gibbs himself had felt. "Do we know what's wrong...?"

Gibbs shook his head but didn't stand up; he wasn't sure his legs would support him. "They haven't said anything. Just took her away to run some tests."

"But she'll be okay, right? I mean, you found her in time?" His eyes searching Gibbs' own, Tony reminded his boss more of a scared child than the competent agent he knew him to be.

Gibbs could understand though, better than anyone; Tony and Abby's relationship had always been a close one and had, at one time, caused him to think that maybe he'd end up watching her fall for the younger agent. It was strange to Gibbs that he'd never felt threatened by the closeness that still existed between Abby and McGee even knowing they'd once been lovers but that the closeness between Tony and Abby had, at first, unsettled him. "We don't know anything yet, Tony," he said after a moment, keeping his voice soft. "There's nothing we can do but wait."

Hating it but knowing his boss was right, Tony sat down on the couch opposite and let his head drop to his hands. Ziva and McGee immediately sat either side of him, subconsciously flanking him as they, too, worried for their friend.

Mike stood, keeping watch over the group, meeting Gibbs' gaze for a brief moment, a chill going through him at the look in the eyes of the man he had once mentored. Whether Abby lived or died, the people responsible for putting her at risk were going to suffer, Mike vowed. Both for what they'd done to her, and for what they'd done to those who loved her.

* * *

It took an hour and much badgering of the nurses at the station before Martha returned with one of the doctors with news of Abby's condition.

"Agent Gibbs?" The doctor called out after glancing at the notes in his hand and reading the name of Abby's next of kin. As Gibbs approached, he held out his hand. "I'm Doctor Taylor. I'm overseeing Ms. Sciuto's care."

"How is she?" Gibbs accepted the hand held out to him on impulse, his mind far too busy trying to process his thoughts to worry about remembering his manners. "Is Abby...?"

"She's responding well to treatment," the doctor informed him calmly, his neutral expression not giving anything away. "After all of the tests, we can safely assume she's suffering from a form of caffeine poisoning as a result of an overdose."

"Caffeine...?" Gibbs remembered the pool of Caf-Pow he'd knelt in and tensed his back against a shudder. "Will she be okay?"

"I believe so. We attached a tube from her nose to her stomach in an attempt at washing out any caffeine that might have been left in her system," Doctor Taylor said seriously. "Her condition has stabilised and we've got her on a ventilator to help with her breathing. At the moment, we're trying her on a variety of treatments to correct her irregular heartbeat."

Gibbs nodded, the intense relief he felt making it almost impossible to speak.

"You said it was caffeine poisoning," Tony intervened on his behalf. "Abby has a fondness for a caffeinated soft drink... Could she have just drunk too much...?"

Doctor Taylor shook his head. "There's rarely enough caffeine in energy drinks to cause this kind of reaction. The amounts we found in her blood... Unless she was also taking caffeine supplements, it's unlikely that this was an accidental overdose. Is there any way her drinks could have been tampered with?"

The team exchanged uneasy looks.

"It's a possibility," Gibbs answered curtly. "When can I see her?"

Doctor Taylor exchanged a glance with Martha before sighing softly. "I can let one of you in to see her now, two at most. The rest of you will have to wait until we've moved her out of intensive care."

It was enough for Gibbs, who turned to his agents. "Ziva, McGee, find out where she's been getting her Caf-Pows from and see if there's been any hits on the search she was running. Duck, can you test the Caf-Pow in her lab and check the caffeine levels? Mike, go with him, make sure he gets there in once piece. DiNozzo, you're with me."

No one argued, though it was clear all of them wanted a chance to go and see Abby themselves. Understanding why he'd chosen the way he had, McGee and Ziva left reluctantly, with Ducky and Mike following.

Tony and Gibbs followed Doctor Taylor through the double doors Martha had prevented Gibbs from going through not more than a few hours earlier, each impatient to see their friend.

* * *

Tracing Abby's movements over the last few days wasn't a difficult task nor was it hard to find out that she'd bought her steady supply of Caf-Pows from the same coffee shop they'd frequented for years.

McGee and Ziva stood at the counter, the latter tapping her foot impatiently as the customer being served ahead of them deliberated over whether to add a blueberry muffin to her order or a chocolate slice.

"She will have the blueberry," Ziva said eventually, making the decision for her. When the woman turned around the protest, Ziva flashed her badge at her. "We are here on official business and do not have all day to wait."

Evidently annoyed but unwilling to argue with an officer of the law, the woman took her latte and muffin and left. The barista behind the counter looked at the two agents expectantly, recognising both of them from the many coffee runs they'd done over the years.

"Agent David, Agent McGee. What can I do for you?" The young man, Elliot, glanced between them. "Is everything okay?"

"Not really, Elliot." McGee held Elliot's gaze evenly. "We need to take your Caf-Pow machine in as part of an investigation, and we need to know if you've had any complaints from customers about the content of the Caf-Pows you've sold in the last week or so."

"You have to take in the machine...? Why? If Abby wants one that badly, I can give you the details of our supplier..." His attempt at a joke fell flat and he frowned at the expressions on their faces. "What's going on?"

"Abby is in hospital, Elliot," Ziva informed him calmly. "She is suffering from caffeine poisoning and we believe the Caf-Pows she drinks may be responsible."

"What? No." Elliot shook his head, his eyes wide. "Our machine was serviced a month ago, it was working fine. And no one... No one's said anything about the drinks..." He cut himself off and shook his head. "You're welcome to take it in but I promise, there's nothing wrong with it. She couldn't have... Not from here." He shook his head again. "She's gonna be okay, though, right? Abby? She's... She's one of our favourite customers."

"She is a favourite of many," Ziva murmured softly.

McGee glanced at her, hearing the trace of concern for their friend in her voice. "She's going to be fine," he said firmly, not sure if he was assuring Ziva, Elliot, himself or all of them. He scribbled down the name and number of the NCIS techs who would be arriving to pick up the machine for the barista. "Your cooperation is appreciated, Elliot, and I promise, as soon as we're done with the machine, we'll have it brought back to you."

Elliott nodded. "Sure, no problem. Just... Tell Abby we're all thinking of her, okay?"

"We will," McGee promised, "as soon as we see her."

He and Ziva left, certain they'd managed to rule out accidental poisoning but otherwise no further forward in finding the person responsible.


	9. Chapter 9

Part Nine

* * *

After a thorough examination of the Caf-Pow machine, it was confirmed that it was in full working order and couldn't be responsible for Abby's condition. Ducky's tests, however, confirmed that the the Caf-Pow they'd found in Abby's lab had been doctored with almost a fifth of the liquid's make up pure caffeine.

Realising it meant someone had doctored the drink after she'd bought it, the NCIS team reluctantly began investigating the only possibility left open to them: that someone within NCIS Headquarters, or with access inside the building, was responsible.

McGee settled himself in Abby's lab, the facial recognition programme running in the background as he and Ziva began the unenviable task of looking through hours of surveillance footage in the hopes that somewhere, someone would be noticed.

They both grew more and more disturbed by the footage, Abby's erratic behaviour undeniable as they watched it back. On more than one occasion it seemed like she was talking to someone who wasn't there, an uncomfortable reminder of a recent case they'd investigated.

It wasn't until the third day that they noticed a glitch in the time on the corner of the screen, suggesting that either the tapes had been tampered with or some sort of blocking device had been used to keep the cameras from recording in the lab at a certain time.

With Director Vance's permission, McGee acquired further surveillance footage, this time of the hallway outside the lab. As he and Ziva fast-forwarded the tapes to a few seconds before the timing glitch occurred, the computer in the lab beeped.

While Ziva stayed to review the video footage, McGee moved over to the computer to read what it said.

"We have a match," he called out, his voice surprised.

Her eyes narrowed and focused on the frozen image on the screen in front of her, Ziva identified him before McGee could tell her. "Tommy Doyle."

* * *

Her hand moved against his. Gibbs immediately turned away from the conversation in which Ziva and McGee were trying to explain how Tommy Doyle had been mistakenly released from prison in place of his cellmate and stared at Abby's face intently.

"Abby?"

Her fingers moved and her eyelids fluttered. She opened her eyes, confusion on her face. She looked around and, not recognising where she was or realising that the tube in her throat was helping her breathe, began to panic.

"Nurse!" Tony was up and out of his chair in an instant.

Gibbs, too, got to his feet but moved closer to Abby's side, tightening his hand over hers. "It's okay, Abby, you're in hospital. Try and keep calm. You're on a ventilator..."

Her gaze darted around the room once more before fixing on his face. She pulled the hand he held away, drawing his attention to it. As he watched, her fingers formed letters in quick succession. 'What happened?"

Saved from answering by the arrival of Martha and Doctor Taylor, Gibbs found himself ushered out into the hallway with the rest of the team. He ran a hand through his hair, relief at Abby waking up warring with anger at knowing who was responsible for it.

"We've got alerts out for Doyle," McGee reported after a momentarily pause. "The FBI are getting involved, too."

"That doesn't explain how he was able to get onto the Navy Yard without being detected," Gibbs ground out, his hand clenching into a fist at his side. "Especially not with security being as high as it has been recently."

"Maybe he had help," Tony suggested. "There were two people when I was attacked. Maybe whoever he's working with got him inside."

Mike chose that moment to join them, walking down the hall with a grim expression on his face. He met Gibbs' gaze. "There's someone who might be able to help you figure it out," he told them, holding out the item in his hand.

Abby's cell phone.

Frowning, Gibbs took it and lifted it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Agent Gibbs?" The voice on the other end was familiar but one Gibbs had hoped never to hear again in his lifetime. "It's Mikel, Mikel Mawher. Is Abby... Is she okay? He said he wouldn't hurt her, he promised..."

"Mawher." Gibbs' jaw tightened and he felt each of his agents look at him in surprise. "How are you involved in this?"

"Meet me and I'll tell you everything."

* * *

Her throat felt tender and bruised, her body aching all over. Still, Abby knew she was lucky to be alive and was grateful that she was. Her mind already felt clearer, the confusion that the caffeine overdose had created having almost completely disappeared.

"You should have told us Mawher was calling you," Tony chided her, his hand tightening around hers to take the sting out of his words.

Gibbs had left a few hours earlier saying he had something to do while the others had been ordered to continue the search for Doyle. Tony himself was still waiting to be cleared for duty and though he was itching to get back to work, he was pleased he had an excuse to stay at the hospital with Abby.

Shrugging her shoulders, Abby looked down at their joined hands. "It made sense not to, at the time. A lot of things that don't make sense now did. I thought I could handle it. I thought... I didn't think he could be related to everything that's going on."

"None of us would've done," Tony admitted. "How could we have known they'd have met in prison and formed a 'we hate NCIS' club?"

The corners of her mouth quirked at his words but the beginnings of a smile didn't amount to much. "I'm sorry, Tony. I know I should have told you."

"I forgive you," he reassured her kindly.

"Do you think Gibbs will?" Abby asked quietly. "He didn't look too pleased with me."

"He's worried about you, we all are." Tony met her gaze and shrugged. "To be honest, I think he's probably blaming himself more for not noticing you were ill than blaming you for not telling him. Plus you've got that other issue you guys need to resolve... You wanna tell me what that's about now, by the way? I think I deserve something..."

She shrugged again but managed to meet his eyes. "I made a mistake," she said eventually, her voice soft. "I thought... I thought for a moment he might feel the same way I do. I thought... That night we went to the bar, God, it feels like so long ago now... He took me home and I thought for a moment he was going to kiss me. He didn't. End of story."

"That's not the end of it," Tony said after a long pause. "You know as well as I do it's not. Tell me what happened, step by step."

Smiling a little in spite of herself at the way he perched on the edge of his seat, Abby shook her head. "You're far too interested in this to be normal, Tony."

He shrugged, unable to deny it. "You're a friend, he's a friend. I like it when my friends are happy so... Tell me. Maybe I can give you a guy's perspective on it."

Rolling her eyes, Abby recounted what she remembered of the evening, the way they'd been teasing, flirting, the way he'd moved closer and she'd leaned into him... and the way he'd pulled back so abruptly. When she finished, Tony just stared at her, an eyebrow arched.

"That's it?" He asked after a moment. "That's why you think he's not interested?"

"What do you mean 'that's it'? It's pretty obvious," Abby protested. "He had the perfect opportunity, Tony. If he'd wanted to kiss me..."

"He did! I wasn't there and I know that!" It was Tony's turn to roll his eyes. "Maybe it was the caffeine poisoning starting to take effect, Abby, but I think you're being too sensitive about it. I don't think it was an excuse, I think Gibbs probably did feel someone watching you guys. I wouldn't be surprised if it was Doyle, following one or both of you."

Realisation dawned in Abby's eyes and her jaw dropped. "You think there might have really been someone there? I hadn't made the connection..."

"Don't feel bad, Abby," Tony offered. "You'd probably had your first dose of extra-caffeinated Caf-Pow by then."

She paled at the thought of the drink she'd once loved so much, her stomach churning. "I think I'll take a break from all things caffeine related for a while. Just the thought makes me feel sick."

They lapsed into silence for a few moments, both taking a moment to be grateful that they'd survived. Tony looked up, seeing the worry in Abby's face, and knew she was thinking about their boss, too, and how he was no doubt the final target of Doyle and whoever he was working with. Before he could open his mouth to reassure her, the man in question walked into the room, followed by someone neither had ever wanted to see again.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Tony demanded, pushing his chair back as he stood.

Gibbs gave him a look that told him he wasn't happy about it, either. "He wouldn't talk until he'd seen her," he answered coolly. Turning to the man in question, he purposely blocked Mikel Mawher's view of Abby. "Now you've seen her, you can turn around and walk out of the room."

"What? No! I mean, Abby, please..." Mawher tried to get past Gibbs but the NCIS Agent wasn't moving. "You weren't meant to be hurt, Abby," Mawher called out over Gibbs' shoulder, desperately trying to get a glimpse of the woman behind him. "They promised you wouldn't get hurt!"

Before anyone could react, Gibbs had him by the throat and pushed him against the far wall, his grip tightening as Mawher struggled to get free. "She did get hurt, Mawher, she almost died. Now you've seen her, you're gonna walk out of here and tell me everything I need to know to make sure that doesn't happen again."

Paling at the look in Gibbs' icy gaze, Mawher could only nod his agreement.

Forcing himself to let go, Gibbs motioned to Tony. "Mike's outside, DiNozzo. Take him to him."

Tony didn't hesitate, grabbing Mawher roughly and pulling him from the room.

Alone, Gibbs crossed the room and sat down on the edge of Abby's bed, reaching out to take her hand when she said nothing. "I'm sorry," he apologised, breaking one of his own rules. "I wanted to warn you but he was insistent..."

Abby shook her head and tangled her fingers with his. "It's okay. If it means he'll talk and tell you where you can find Doyle..." She let one shoulder rise and fall. "You know you're going to be their next target. The sooner you get them..."

"I should've got them before they hurt you. I should've found them after Ziva was hurt."

"You couldn't. Besides, like Tony was just telling me, Doyle probably started doctoring my drinks before he tampered with Ziva's brakes." She squeezed his fingers, hating the self-recrimination on his face. "It's not your fault, Gibbs. None of this is."

He looked up and met her gaze for the first time since entering the room, the look in his eyes causing her own to widen slightly in surprise. "I don't know what I'd have done, Abs, if you'd..." Unable to continue, he lifted his spare hand to her face, cupping her cheek gently.

"I didn't. I'm still here." Leaning into his touch, Abby turned her head slightly, brushing her lips against his palm. "Gibbs..."

"I know, Abby." He moved his thumb, stroking the skin of her cheek softly before covering the distance between them, pressing his lips against her gently. Pulling back after too short a time, he sighed. "If I could stay..."

"I know," she murmured, repeating his words. "Go. Catch the bad guys. We can deal with everything else later. Just... stay safe."

He gave her a small, lopsided grin and reluctantly got to his feet. "I'll do my best."

Within a few minutes of him leaving, Tony returned, a questioning look on his face when he caught sight of the smile on hers. "So...?"

"So..." Her voice trailing off deliberately, Abby leaned back against the pillows, a contented expression on his face. "Looks like you were right after all."


	10. Chapter 10

____

_If you're not a serious Gibbs/Abby shipper, I'd recommend stopping this story at the end of this part and hope you've enjoyed the ride up to now. For the Gibbs/Abby shippers, this is where it starts gettin' shippy! If you keep reading, I hope you enjoy it - and thank you, again, for all of your comments, reviews and adds. Many hugs to all of you, and of course to Lisa, as always, for the proofreading._

Part Ten

____

_

* * *

_

Mikel Mawher sat in the interrogation room at NCIS Headquarters on the Navy Yard, his mind going back to the last time he'd been there. He remembered banging on the one-way mirror desperately, convinced Abby was standing on the other side watching him.

He remembered being heartbroken when Special Agent Gibbs had flicked on the light and shown that there was no one there after all.

Over the years he'd been in prison, he'd had time to wonder and theorise about why she hadn't been there and he'd eventually settled on an idea that had become reality in his mind. It only stood to reason, after all, that her colleagues would want to keep her away from him – they didn't understand how they felt about each other, couldn't know how much she loved him. If they'd refused to let her see him, if they had ganged up on her, she wouldn't have had a choice.

It was for that reason that he decided he hated the NCIS agents who'd helped secure his place in prison, and for that reason that he'd allowed himself to be talked into Tommy Doyle's plan.

"She wasn't meant to be hurt," he repeated, for what felt like the hundredth time. "Tommy promised me Abby wouldn't be hurt. He knew how I felt about her. He said she'd be safe, that she'd be waiting for me when I got out."

"And you believed him." It was the pity in Agent Gibbs' eyes that bothered him the most, the almost condescending way in which the older man looked at him.

As if he knew something Mawher himself didn't.

The agent who stood behind him, watching him in the reflective glass, stared at him unblinkingly. Mawher clasped his hands together and fought the urge to sink down in his chair.

"I believed he wouldn't hurt her, he promised," Mawher insisted. "Why would he? Abby did nothing to hurt him. It was you guys who ruined his plan, you guys who arrested him."

"It was using evidence Abby gathered that got him convicted," Gibbs pointed out mildly. "You didn't think he'd be a little pissed off at her for that?"

"He said he wasn't," Mawher replied petulantly, crossing his arms across his chest. "I had no reason not to believe him."

"Right." Gibbs met the gaze of the agent standing behind him. "So why don't we just cut to the chase, Mikel. Tell me where I can find Doyle, and tell me who's working with him."

Mawher looked down at the table. "I don't know who's working with him," he answered after a moment. "And I really didn't think he'd hurt Abby."

The agent behind him moved so suddenly, Mawher didn't realise he had until a firm hand clamped down on his shoulder and squeezed tightly. Mawher turned his head away, noticing with a sickening lurch of his stomach that the hand was missing a finger. "Get your head out of your ass, boy. Doyle's pissed at Gibbs, right? Surely you're not so thick that you didn't realise he'd probably go after Abby to hurt his main target?"

Mawher paled, both at the agent's words and at the pressure on his shoulder. "I—I didn't think about that."

Didn't want to, he admitted to himself. He didn't want to remember the way she'd talked about her boss, the way she'd always left him without a second thought if her boss had called while they were out on a date. He didn't want to remember the way she'd smiled in her sleep sometimes and murmured her boss's name instead of his own.

"No, you didn't, because you're living so far in cuckoo land you don't know which way is up." The other agent moved away but the ghostly memory of his grip on Mawher's shoulder lingered. "Just answer the damn questions and I'll try to let you leave here with your legs intact."

"Mike." It took Mawher a moment to realise Gibbs wasn't talking to him. "Be careful."

The agent behind him – Mike – shrugged and leaned casually against the wall. "What's the worst they can do, Probie? Fire me for assaulting a convicted criminal? I don't even work here anymore."

"What?" Mawher twisted in his chair. "You don't... Who are you?"

The agent – former agent – known only to him as 'Mike' gave him a wide toothy grin in response. "I'm someone who cares a lot for the people you and your friend decided to screw around with. You're gonna want to start talking, boy, before my patience runs out."

Gibbs shrugged when Mawher fixed wide eyes on him. "I'd do what he says, Mikel. He's not known for his patience." The NCIS Agent arched an eyebrow. "Neither am I."

Mawher did slink down in his chair then, hanging his head and avoiding eye contact with both of the other men in the room with him. "I'll tell you what I know."

* * *

What he knew didn't amount to much, to the disappointment of both Gibbs and Mike. Mawher was taken back to his cell, escorted by armed guard, while Gibbs and Mike returned to the hospital where Ziva and McGee were doing their best to entertain Abby and Tony. Gibbs watched them through the window in the door for a few moments, savouring the sight of all four of them being alive.

He was just about to push the door open when a movement caught his eye. Turning, he heard Mike call out just as a shot rang through the air.

Ducking to avoid it, Gibbs looked up in time to see the back of Tommy Doyle as the man ran in the opposite direction.

Without a moment's hesitation, Gibbs ran after him, knowing without looking that Mike and at least two of his agents were behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Tony, motioning without words for his senior agent to get back into Abby's room and keep watch over her. His agent nodded, looking only marginally disappointed to miss out on the chase.

Following Doyle to the parking lot, Gibbs had almost reached him when the younger man darted into a waiting car, putting it in reverse without checking to see if there was anyone behind him. Before he could curse, a second car approached and Gibbs looked to see Franks in the driver's seat.

"Get in, Probie, before we lose 'im!"

He didn't need to be told twice, nor did McGee and Ziva, who jumped in the back. Pressing his foot down on the gas, Mike sped after Doyle, his driving just as reckless as Gibbs' own.

It felt like a lifetime but was in fact not more than fifteen minutes. Doyle eventually led them to a warehouse not far from the Navy Yard, throwing open his car door and sprinting into it before the NCIS team had managed to slam their brakes on and stop.

The four agents got out of the car, each taking a split-second to make sure they had their weapons ready before approaching the warehouse with trepidation

* * *

Inside, Doyle wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand paced in front of the explosives he'd already arranged between himself and the front door. Plan B, he told himself, was just as good as Plan A. Maybe even better.

It didn't matter that he'd missed in shooting Agent Gibbs; the man had followed him to the warehouse, which meant he still had a chance to take him out.

He still had a chance to achieve what he'd planned.

Glancing from the front door to the back door, Doyle darted across the floor and tugged down on the handle, grinning in relieved satisfaction when the door opened.

Good. Plan B was going to work. It had to. And even if none of the agents were seriously hurt in the explosion, he'd at least get another chance at getting them back later down the line.

He'd survive.

The front door to the warehouse opened and two of the four agents came in, flanked by their colleagues.

Doyle held his hands up, showing them he no longer held a gun, showing them the detonator in his hand in the gun's place.

"I'm unarmed," he called out, a grin on his face as Agent Gibbs advanced forward. "Well, in a manner of speaking. Shoot me and I'll blow us all up."

"You're probably going to blow us all up anyway," Gibbs replied, holding his gun steady in his hand. "Put down the detonator, Tommy. It's over."

"No, it's not." Doyle shook his head. "It's not over till I say it is, Agent Gibbs. If I give up now, you'll have me back in my cell within the hour. I'm not going back there, I'd rather die first."

It wasn't much of an exaggeration; he didn't want to die but he couldn't imagine going back to prison, either. It was too much and too little all at the same time. He'd wanted fame and fortune and instead had spent the last two years of his life trying to convince his fellow prisoners he really was responsible for the murders they'd heard about.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Agent David moving around trying to get behind him. "I wouldn't do that, Agent David. If I press the button, it starts the timer. Once the timer is started, we all have two minutes to get out of here before the whole place comes down around us. You don't want that, do you?"

"Neither do you," Gibbs answered for her. "You don't want to die, Tommy. If you're dead, you won't be around to soak up the limelight, the glory. That's what you want, isn't it? That's what you've always wanted? I'm guessing that's why you've staged this whole thing, an attempt at getting more attention from the press, this time with your name and picture attached. The guy who managed to break out of prison and go after the agency who put him there. That's what you were hoping for, right? To kill us one by one then go public?"

Doyle shifted uncomfortably; while he'd become proficient in being able to predict the minds of Agent Gibbs and his team, he wasn't comfortable with the thought that Gibbs could do the same for him.

"I'm done with this," he declared, his voice shaking. "I'm through playing games! You've got two minutes, Agent Gibbs. I'd recommend you and your team get out of here if you want a fighting chance."

It wasn't the way he'd planned, not half as dramatic as he would have liked, but Doyle pressed the button on the remote in his hand, watching with satisfaction as the digital display on the explosives lit up and began counting down.

He waited a split second to hear Gibbs issue the order he'd been hoping for, the order for his agents to retreat, and headed to the back door to make his own escape.

The handle wouldn't budge.

"No. No, no, no..." Hitting it, throwing his weight against the door, Doyle felt a cold sweat break out over his body as the door refused to move and the counter behind him continued to tick down, second by second. "This can't be happening, this can't be..."

* * *

The explosion was immense, the heat of the fire reaching them even as they threw themselves on the ground behind their car. Debris flew through the air and rained down on them but thankfully no one was hurt.

No one but Tommy Doyle.

The forensics team who swept the site when it was deemed safe to enter found traces to prove the young man had still been inside the warehouse when it had exploded, along with evidence that he'd been trying to exit through a second entrance when the bomb he'd rigged had gone off.

Why he hadn't checked the door prior to setting it off, Gibbs couldn't fathom. It was a puzzle, he told himself, he would have to let go unsolved.

The days went by. The second man remained a mystery but, having made no move to hurt anyone else, was deemed a low security risk. Gibbs had been troubled at first but had let Director Vance talk him into accepting that the stranger was no longer a threat, and probably just a nobody who'd been talked into going along for the ride.

He put it out of his mind as Abby was released from hospital and the team were allowed to move out of the safe house. McGee moved back in with Tony and instantly began looking for a new place, while Gibbs took in the dog as promised, not minding one bit that Abby insisted on making daily trips to check on 'her two Jethros'.

Smiling to himself at the thought, Gibbs found himself looking forward to the approaching evening, knowing it would bring another visit from his favourite forensic specialist. He opened the front door to his house and greeted the dog that bounded up to him with a scratch behind the ears before heading through to the kitchen, ready to make a start on fixing something for dinner.

Less than half an hour later, Jethro the dog barked again, his tail wagging, announcing Abby's arrival.

"Hey, Jethro. How's my favourite dog today, hmm?" The sound of her voice made him smile again and Gibbs moved from the kitchen to see her kicking the door shut behind her while petting the dog that leapt up, eager for attention.

Gibbs could kind of understand how he felt. "You come to see me or the dog, Abs?"

"Both," she answered immediately, her smile bright and unapologetic. After fussing over the dog for a few moments more, Abby straightened and headed towards him, letting Jethro the dog walk over to the fireplace and settle back down on the rug he'd been dozing on. "Hey to you, too," she greeted Gibbs, tilting her face up to his to accept the light kiss he so willingly bestowed on her lips.

They were taking their relationship slow, having exchanged no more than a few light kisses and lingering embraces. After everything they'd been through over the last few weeks, they decided that they would take their time and savour every second since neither could know just how much time they had.

"Something smells great," Abby declared, breaking away from him with a shy smile. "What's for dinner?"

He grinned again when she brushed by him, following her into the kitchen. Watching her for a few moments as she stirred the sauce bubbling away on the stove, Gibbs moved up behind her and wrapped his arms around her just because he could. "Spaghetti ala Gibbs, Jack's recipe. I think you'll like it."

"I'm sure I will." She leaned back against him, tilting her head so it rested against his shoulder.

They stood together in silence for a few moments more, enjoying the domestication of it, each taking pleasure in something so simple that most couples took for granted.

* * *

He was going crazy, not knowing what was happening. Someone had said Tommy was dead but that couldn't be true; Mawher refused to believe it. Tommy was his way out of prison, his ticket to freedom – and to Abby. Tommy had promised... but Tommy had also promised not to hurt her.

Mawher sat up when the guard came to his cell and told him he had a visitor, his heart pounding in his chest as he was led through the artificially lit hallways to the visitors room.

Maybe it was Abby. Maybe she'd come to thank him...

His heart fell when he saw the person waiting for him was a man but rose again when his visitor looked up and he recognised who it was.

Sitting down at the table, he was barely able to wait for the guard to move away before picking up the plastic receiver and addressing the man sitting in front of him. "What's going on, Drew? Where's Tommy?"

"Tommy's dead." Drew Barton, his former cellmate, told him calmly, his manner matter-of-fact and entirely unperturbed by the news he was breaking. "It's okay, Mikel. I got him back for what he did to her. For what he tried to do."

"You...?" Mawher's eyes widened but he couldn't bring himself to say the words. He looked over his shoulder, noticed the guard watching him, and turned away quickly. "Abby's okay?"

"She's fine." Drew smiled a small, secretive smile. "I'm keeping an eye on her for you, don't worry. I won't let anything bad happen to her again."

"Good. That's good to know." Relief flooded him, replacing the disappointment he'd felt at learning Tommy was dead. His elation was short-lived, however, as he realised that, with Tommy, his chances at getting out of prison early had died too. "You'll keep her safe till I get out of here? It won't be for another year, maybe two..."

Drew smiled again, that same knowing smile that made Mawher wonder what was going on in his friend's mind. "You'll be out of here in a matter of weeks, Mikel, just like we planned."

"Really?" Sitting on the edge of the seat, Mawher could barely contain his excitement. "How...?"

"I've tweaked Tommy's plan a little. Just be ready. It'll happen the way he said it would, during your next meeting with your lawyer." Drew looked over Mawher's shoulder at the guard watching them and then back to Mawher. "Just be ready, Mikel. I'll have you out of here soon."

Mawher returned his grin, almost giddy at the thought. Even once he was back in his cell, lying on his bed staring at the ceiling, he couldn't keep himself from getting excited.

Conjuring Abby's face in his mind, her happiness when she realised they could finally be together again, Mawher grinned again.

"Soon, Abby," he whispered to the otherwise empty room. "We'll be together again soon."


	11. Chapter 11

Part Eleven

* * *

It was the first day they would all be back at work together and Abby couldn't help feeling a little giddy at the thought. Finally, she thought, things could get back to what passed as normal for the NCIS team and they could all start really moving on.

Deciding that her relationship with Gibbs could use a little moving on, too, put her in an even better mood. She just had to figure out how to broach the subject with him, how to let him know she was ready for more than what they'd already shared.

Exiting the elevator with a bounce in her step, Abby took a moment to survey the squad room, her smile growing wider when she realised all four of her favourite agents were sitting behind their desks.

"Hey, guys," she greeted them brightly, waving as she moved to stand in the centre of their section of the squad room.

"Hey, Abs, looking good." Tony was the first to move out from around his desk, hugging her without hesitation.

She hugged him back just as warmly, catching Gibbs' eye over his shoulder and winking. "You look good, too, Tony, but that could be because I haven't seen you in almost two whole days."

"It's not my fault you're never home when I call," Tony protested, stepping back and rolling his eyes at her. "Never knew you were such a social butterfly."

The speculative look Tony gave her did not go unnoticed by Gibbs, though he was thankful neither Ziva nor McGee seemed to pick up on it as they, too, moved to welcome back the forensic specialist. It was a reminder that Tony was good at observing people, and a reminder the younger agent was one of Abby's closest friends and favourite confidants.

"What have you been doing, Abby? It must have driven you crazy to be away from work?" Ziva released her after accepting her hug and arched a questioning eyebrow. "I expected you to come back early."

"I was tempted," Abby admitted, "but luckily I had something else to keep me occupied." At the questioning looks she was given, she smiled and shrugged. "One of my friends is getting married in a couple of weeks. I've been helping her organise things while I've been off."

"Sounds like fun," Ziva commented, though the expression on her face seemed to suggest she really thought the opposite and made Abby chuckle.

"I thought it'd be a nightmare, too, but I'm actually enjoying it. She's really happy and that makes me happy so..." Abby shrugged and smiled again. "Well, as much as I love seeing you guys, I've missed my lab, too, and I'm sure my babies have missed me."

Gibbs stood as she started walking towards the elevator, falling into step beside her without comment. Abby gave him a sidelong glance but said nothing, letting him walk with her. Once inside, it didn't surprise her that he hit the emergency stop, plunging them into a dimly lit stillness.

"You sure you're ready to come back?" He asked instantly, searching her face for any sign that she regretted the decision. "You've got another week of leave you can take..."

"Another week of trying to find things to keep me busy," Abby corrected with a smirk. "Though I think Carol would rather I quit my job and become her wedding planner full time but I really don't think a career change is on the cards."

"Glad to hear it." He moved closer, invading her personal space without apology and slid his arms around her waist. He didn't protest when she leaned up to kiss him, though she could tell he was as surprised as she was when what started as a light, undemanding kiss turned into something that made them both need to take a step back when it was done. "You want to go for lunch later? Think we need to talk about a couple of things."

Abby smiled, enjoying the look in his darkened eyes. "I agree. I think there's something very important we need to talk about and work isn't really the right place."

"I'll meet you in the squad room at lunch," Gibbs murmured, reaching past her to activate the elevator once more. "If we get a case..."

"You'll call," she finished for him. She leaned in for a quick kiss before the elevator doors slid open, slipping out before he could react. "See you later!"

Gibbs watched her go, wondering how he'd manage to school his features into a neutral expression when he returned to his agents.

* * *

Their lunch date didn't go as planned, with the team catching a case just an hour into their working day. Abby assured him it was fine, that he didn't need to worry about her and made alternate plans.

She left the Navy Yard after a short conversation with the bride-to-be and got into her car, turning the music up as she drove towards the mall. She sang along to her favourite songs, her heart light and happy.

Getting out of her car, she started to turn away only to pause, part of her good mood evaporating as she felt someone's gaze on her. Looking around and seeing no one, she told herself she was just being paranoid and continued on into the busy shopping mall.

It never failed to amaze her how many people there seemed to be about, no matter what time of day it was. People always seemed to find time in their busy schedules to hit the shops and, while it amused her on one level, she couldn't understand it on another. Shopping was not her favourite thing.

She had duties, though, being the appointed maid-of-honour in her friend's wedding. Duties that involved running last minute errands and making sure the bachelorette party she was organising was one of the best the bride-to-be had ever been to.

She took a break halfway through completing her tasks, grabbing a sandwich and a bottle of water for lunch. Sitting at a table in the busy food court, she looked around, her gaze moving instinctively from face to face as she indulged in one of her favourite activities: people watching.

There were the awkward teenagers, obviously into one another but both unwilling to make the first move. There was the quartet of business women, grabbing a quick lunch together and catching each other up on the latest gossip. There was the business man in a perfectly tailored suit trying to grab something to eat at the same time as taking a no doubt important phone call on his cell.

There was the man who sat across the room from her, watching her, the same guy she'd seen in both the stationary shop where she'd picked up the invitations and the cake shop where she'd finalised the arrangements for the wedding cake.

Feeling cold and not really knowing why, Abby abandoned the rest of her sandwich and took her bottled water and shopping bags with her as she headed to her final stop of the day, checking over her shoulder every couple of minutes to make sure he wasn't there.

When she made it to the popular lingerie store without incident, she convinced herself she really was just being paranoid and decided to distract herself by not only picking out a present for the bride – and groom – to be to enjoy on their wedding night but by buying herself something, too.

A matching bra and panties set in dark red went onto the counter straight away and she continued to browse, deciding to treat herself to a nightdress decidedly sexier than the traditional Victorian funeral gown she wore on occasion.

The negligee she chose for herself was short and fitted in all the right places, a combination of dark green satin and black lace that she knew would look good even before she was convinced to try it on by the eager sales assistant.

Staring at her reflection, picturing how she'd complete the look with her hair and make-up, Abby tried to imagine what Gibbs' reaction would be to it if - when, she corrected herself with a grin – he saw her in it.

Maybe, she thought to herself, she shouldn't worry about how to broach the subject and should just turn up on his doorstep dressed in the negligee, heels and a long coat. It was one way of telling him she was ready for their relationship to move on.

Smiling to herself, she added the negligee to her purchases and changed back into her regular clothes as the cashier rang up the sale.

It wasn't until she reached the parking lot that she saw him again, getting into a car parked half a dozen spaces away from her own and wondered if maybe she wasn't being paranoid after all.


	12. Chapter 12

Part Twelve

* * *

He listened half-heartedly to the banter as his agents argued over which of them was responsible for closing the case they'd caught just before lunch. What had originally been thought of as a serious case of the theft of a laptop belonging to a senior Navy official had been solved pretty quickly when the official's daughter had been caught trying to sneak it back into the house after skipping her afternoon classes.

Gibbs hadn't understood half of what she'd sobbingly said but recognised enough to know she'd taken the laptop to try and impress her friends with the top-of-the-range model because her parents wouldn't buy her one of her own.

How his agents planned on taking credit for the girl's confession, he didn't really know, and when he heard the elevator bell ring and looked up to see Abby walking towards them, he found he no longer cared.

"Hey, Abby," Tony called out as the forensic specialist passed his desk. "Did you leave anything at the stores for everyone else to buy?"

"I left plenty!" Abby protested, clutching the bags protectively as his senior agent immediately got up to investigate. Gibbs had to admit his own curiosity was piqued when he recognised the logo on two of the bags as being from the same lingerie shop they'd had to visit a couple of years previously to identify the underwear one of their victims had been found in, in an attempt at learning her name. "Uh-uh, Tony, that's not for you to look at!"

"Aww, please?" Tony made a half-hearted attempt at grabbing a bag, shaking his head when she deftly moved it out of reach. "What's with all of the bags anyway?"

"Supplies for Carol's bachelorette party," Abby answered matter-of-factly. "And no, you can't come. It's ladies only." She glanced over her shoulder at Ziva and smiled. "You're more than welcome to join us, Ziva, if you think you can stand being in a room with a dozen women acting like teenagers without pulling out your gun."

Ziva paled but valiantly attempted a smile. "Thank you for the offer, Abby, but I think I am busy that night."

"She hasn't told you when it is," McGee pointed out, ducking his head at the glare the Israeli threw him. "Okay, okay, I get the hint."

Abby laughed, showing there were no hard feelings. "It's fine, Ziva. I think I'd try getting out of it, too, if I wasn't the maid of honour." Rearranging the bags again, Abby started walking towards the bank of elevators at the back of the squad room. "I've got to get back to work. There's still so much to catch up on. See you all later!"

"See you, Abs."

"We will see you later, Abby."

"Bye, Abby!"

Their voices followed her but Gibbs kept his own from joining them. He made a mental note to go down to her lab and visit her later on in the afternoon, and maybe see if he was allowed a sneak peek inside one of the bags. Hopefully they weren't all for the bachelorette party and the bride-to-be.

"Love must be in the air," Tony muttered, returning to his desk.

Gibbs looked up, wondering if the comment was directed at him but he found Tony seemingly focused on the file in front of him rather than staring at him with a knowing smirk on his face.

Ducking his own head to hide a grin, Gibbs couldn't help but agree that maybe it was.

* * *

She put all thoughts of the stranger out of her mind, focusing instead on getting her lab back into the condition she was accustomed to. She hated it when she had to leave her equipment for any length of time, knowing that the replacement Director Vance hired would inevitably mess up the systems she'd worked so hard to put in place.

The lab was her domain, her home away from home, and Abby hated the thought of anyone else being in control of it.

It was easy to get caught up in rearranging everything so it was how she liked and running diagnostics on all of her equipment – her 'babies' – to check they were in full working order so she wasn't surprised when she glanced up at the sound of the elevator bell and saw Gibbs walking towards her, the Special Agent pausing to hit the light switch.

"Hey," she greeted him, taking note of the time as the room she hadn't noticed was dark was suddenly bathed in light. "You get another case?"

"Nope. Just catching up on paperwork." He leaned against her desk as she continued her inspection of one of her machines, watching the way she deftly took it apart, checked each component, then put it back together. "You were only gone a couple of weeks, Abby."

"Might as well have been a couple of months," she muttered, moving on to the next item on her list. "Seriously, Gibbs, does the Director even check the people he gets in to replace me are qualified? I've had to reorganise my chemical cupboard, change a fuse in Major Mass Spec and run a spyware search on both computers to get rid of stupid tracking cookies and temporary internet files. It looks like whoever was here spent most of their time shopping on the internet rather than doing any forensics."

"Could be true," Gibbs admitted with a shrug. "No one seems to be able to get results as fast as you do, especially not from that thing."

Seeing his gaze fall on her mass spectrometer – Major Mass Spec – Abby threw him an indignant look. "Well, if he or she talked about him the way you do, I'm not surprised. It's all in the way you handle him, Gibbs. The way you talk to him."

He watched her cross back over to the machine in question and run her fingertips over its top as if in reassurance, her actions gentle and tender, making him think of other things she could do with those fingers. He cleared his throat and forced himself to look away, mentally counting backwards from 100 to get his mind off the woman standing in front of him.

The plan didn't work as well as he'd hoped, not when she moved up to him, a knowing smirk on her face, and his traitorous mind started counting 100 ways he could wipe the smirk off her very full, richly painted lips.

"Is there a reason you came to see me, very special Agent Gibbs?" Abby's voice was almost a purr and he wasn't naive enough to believe the way she brushed by him on her way through to her office was accidental. "And you can't use the Caf-Pow excuse anymore because even if you'd brought one, I wouldn't touch it."

Following her into the office, he sat down on the edge of the desk, easily spotting the shopping bags she'd been carrying earlier. He eyed them with obvious interest, arching an eyebrow when she tried to arrange her features into an innocent expression. "What's in the bags, Abby?"

"I told you, I had to pick up some things for Carol's bachelorette party." She bit her lip to keep back a smile but Gibbs knew her too well to be fooled. He stared at her, knowing eventually she'd continue. "Okay, so maybe I bought a little something for me, too. Emphasis on the little," she added with a wink.

"Can I see...?" He made no attempted at getting up to fetch the bags or try to sneak a peek, preferring instead to watch her. The light blush that coloured her cheeks and the way she bit down on her generous bottom lip told him everything he needed to know.

"You'll get your chance, I'm sure of that." She smiled up at him, her daze drifting momentarily towards the bag in question. "Speaking of which, the conversation we didn't get to have at lunch..."

"Think we both know what it was going to be about." Gibbs shrugged a shoulder. "We're both adults, Abby. If we both want the same thing..."

"I know what I want," she told him quietly, her green eyes locking on his blue ones. "What I want to know from you is if you do, too. This isn't something we can go into lightly. There are other factors to consider..."

"Like...?"

"Like the fact we work together, like the fact you're one of my best friends and I'm not willing to risk losing that if you don't feel as seriously about this as I do." Abby forced herself to hold his gaze. "This can't be a casual thing, Gibbs. Not between us."

"Has anything I've said or done led you to think I want this to be casual?" When she didn't immediately answer, Gibbs pushed himself up off the desk.

He didn't walk away like she'd feared he would, moving nearer to her instead. He tugged her up and out of her chair and turned them so she was the one feeling the edge of the desk dig into her back as he pressed her against it, his mouth capturing hers in a searing kiss. He held her face between his hands, keeping her still as he kissed her thoroughly, tasting her, claiming her as his own.

Breaking away, his eyes dark and his breathing as uneven as her own, Gibbs stared at her. "There's nothing casual about this, Abby."

"I... I'm glad." It took her two attempts at speaking, her mind pleasantly fuzzy. Her legs felt weak at the knees and she sat down on the edge of the desk, grateful for its support. "Just wanted to check we were on the same page. Which we are," she added unnecessarily. "Definitely, completely on the same page."

He grinned at the dazed look on her face, a surge of self-satisfaction going through him at the knowledge he was responsible for it. He'd seen Abby with a variety of looks on her face over the years they'd worked together but he had a sneaking suspicion that seeing her cheeks flushed, her eyes darkened and her lips slightly swollen from his kisses would quickly become his favourite.

"So do I get to see what's in the bag?" He asked, fixing the most charming grin he could muster on his face.

Abby laughed and pushed him away when he started to turn towards the bags, shaking her head at him. "Later, I promise. Right now, I need to get back to my babies. They've missed me, you know."

"They're not the only ones." He murmured, following her into the main area of her lab. He ducked his head when she looked at him, heading straight for the door. "Meet me upstairs at six. I'll walk you to your car."

He was gone before she could either agree or disagree but Abby didn't mind; she returned to the task of getting her lab back in the shape she wanted it, forgetting about everything else but the job at hand and the man who'd just left.


	13. Chapter 13

Part Thirteen

* * *

He stood at the window, watching as her car pulled up outside the apartment block. He watched her struggle with her car door in the wind that had picked up over the course of the afternoon and wondered if he should go downstairs and offer to help.

Seeing her manage after a few moments, he decided to stay where he was; his vantage point was good and the view wasn't one he'd complain about, either, not when she leaned over to grab the shopping bags from the backseat of the car.

He watched her juggle her purse with the bags and car keys in her hand, enjoying the look of frustrated concentration that crossed over her face. She'd taken her hair out if the pigtails it'd been in when he'd seen her earlier, he noted, and he thought it suited her. The wind whipped her black hair around her face, giving her a look of wild beauty and, for a moment, he imagined her hair falling around her shoulders as she straddled him, her green eyes locked on his, her lips curved up in a seductive smile.

Shaking himself from his fantasy, he realised with a wave of disappointment that he'd missed her walking into the building. Scanning the now empty street with a sigh, he took a step back from the window, letting the heavy blackout curtains fall back into place.

Drew walked through his apartment, imagining her in the apartment below. He pictured her walking through the front door, dropping her bags on the floor. He imagined her shrugging out of her coat and leaving it – draped over a chair, maybe? Or on the couch like he would? – before walking through to the bedroom.

Following her movements in his head, he walked into his own bedroom, picturing her there. He sat down on the edge of the bed and imagined her taking off her clothes, starting with the top button of the shirt she'd chosen to wear that morning and working her way down, her fingers grazing the skin of her chest and stomach.

Lying back on the bed as his body began to stir, he stared at the ceiling and continued to picture the scene he was convinced was taking place in the apartment below. He managed to keep his hands behind his head until his imagination provided a glorious image of her in nothing but her underwear – matching, he thought, the kind of thing he'd watched her look at in the lingerie store that afternoon.

It didn't take long for him to fall over the edge, his mind replacing his hands with hers as he took himself to the brink of orgasm and over it, her name a harsh cry from his lips.

His heart still racing in his chest, he wiped his hands on his pants, reluctant to get up and leave his daydream behind. Instead, he kept his eyes closed and imagined she was lying next to him, her body warm and soft as she wrapped herself around him.

Mikel had good taste, Drew thought with a dreamy smile. He waited for the familiar stirrings of guilt at the thought of his friend, sighing deeply at the thought of having betrayed Mikel by falling for the woman he was supposed to be watching *for* him.

It was his own fault, Drew told himself. Mikel was the one who'd talked about her non-stop for almost five years. He was the one who wouldn't stop extolling her virtues, describing her in such vivid detail Drew had begun to feel for her himself. He'd always told himself that when he met her, the reality wouldn't meet up with the ideal he'd created in his mind and he'd have no problem stepping aside to let Mikel take his place at her side.

But then he'd met her. Only the once, and even then just for a few seconds. He'd followed her from the Navy Yard after helping Doyle get onto it, his official job being to make sure she didn't go back to her lab early. He hadn't known why at the time, but he knew now it was so the other man could place a doctored Caf-Pow in her lab as a supposed gift from one of her colleagues – something he'd never have agreed to, had Doyle told him what was happening before doing it.

He'd watched her order a strong, black coffee and a Caf-Pow, and fallen in love with the smile she'd given the barista in thanks. He'd panicked when the order had been put together quickly – he was sure the guy behind the counter must've had a crush on her to get it done so fast – and had done the only thing he could think of to delay her return to NCIS Headquarters: he purposely collided with her as she walked to the door.

Drew vividly remembered the feel of her body against his in those moments, how soft and warm she'd felt against him. He'd reached out to steady her and found himself pulling her closer before he realised what he was doing and forced himself to stop. He remembered the startled look on her face, how those green eyes of hers had widened and her lips – painted a dark red that day – had parted in surprise.

She'd looked beautiful.

Added to that was the scent of her, intoxicating and unique. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, exactly, but he remembered inhaling deeply and wishing he didn't have to let her go.

He'd fallen hard that day, and had spent every day ever since thinking about her in ways that would drive Mikel crazy.

In ways that drove *him* crazy.

He told himself he should enjoy the time he had with her, before Mikel was out. He should take advantage of the fact he was the only one in her life at the moment and that was what he was determined to. He had no other reason to follow her now, not with Doyle... Well, Doyle had paid for his part in making her ill; Drew had made sure of that.

Following her, watching her... It was an addiction, he realised, one he wasn't sure he wanted to be cured of.

After a few more moments of lying there, thinking about her, Drew pushed himself up off the bed and headed to the bathroom to clear up. He had to be ready, he reminded himself, he had work to finish.

* * *

She heard Jethro the dog barking as soon as she got out of her car and smiled to herself at his enthusiastic greeting. Hopefully, Abby thought to herself, the man he was named after would give her an enthusiastic welcome, too.

After deliberating in front of the full length mirror in her apartment for a while, Abby had decided to save the nightdress for another time and instead had donned the underwear set she'd bought. She'd covered them with a short black dress she'd bought years ago for her birthday as a treat for herself and teamed it up with knee high boots with a slender heel that she never usually wore to work. Heels and lab work, she'd learned a long time ago, weren't a good combination for happy feet at the end of the day.

The cool air made her shiver as she made the way from her car to the front door, which opened for her just seconds before she could reach for the handle.

"Hey." Gibbs gave her a warm smile in welcome and stepped back to let her enter. She didn't miss the way his eyes passed over her as she brushed by him and allowed herself a small smirk at how he'd react if he knew what she was hiding not only underneath the long, full-length coat but the short dress beneath it, too.

"Hey, yourself." She leaned down to stroke Jethro behind the ears, smiling when the dog leaned against her legs and stared up at her through adoring dark eyes. "And hello to you, too, Jethro." She stroked the dog for a few more moments before looking up into Gibbs' smiling eyes. "What?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Just wondering if you came over to see me or the dog?"

"Can't I say both?" Abby gave Jethro one final scratch before standing up. "Besides, I don't get to see Jethro often. I don't get to visit as much when he's with McGee."

"McGee still have a thing for you?" He stood a little straighter, his eyes tracking her every move as she began to unbutton her long coat. "Or...?"

"Or do I still have a thing for McGee? Really? You're seriously asking me that?" She rolled her eyes and continued unfastening the coat, taking small steps towards him as she went. "Neither. I think he has a crush on the new girl in accounts and I've got you. It's just a little strange, sometimes, spending time with him alone outside of work with all the history between us." Unfastening the last button, she shrugged out of her coat and let it pool at her feet. "Now do you really want to talk about McGee or...?"

His eyes roamed over her, darkening as he studied her. From the front fastenings of her dress to the creamy flesh on display between the ending of the skirt and the beginning of her leather boots to the pointed toe and high, thin heels. "McGee who?"

Laughing, she lifted her arms and settled them around his neck, taking one final step up to him, her body brushing against his. Tilting her face slightly, she kissed him softly, her lips curving up against his when he moved his hands, one resting on her hip while the other settled firmly against her back, pressing her closer.

He let her deepen the kiss but spun them around, using his weight to pin her to the wall. He slipped one knee between her thighs and was rewarded with a soft sigh of approval as her hands moved from his neck to slide over his shoulders, down his back before her fingers moved deftly to the front fastening of his pants.

Drawing back when he felt her cool fingertips against his skin above the waistband of his pants, Gibbs took a moment to catch his breath, dropping his head to her shoulder, nuzzling the skin of her neck before lifting his head to catch her eye. "Thought you were coming over for dinner, Abby?"

Her smile was nothing short of seductive, her green eyes dark and her voice huskier than normal. "I thought we could maybe try a little dessert first? Only if you're feeling up to it...?"

The look on his face suggested he was and Abby couldn't help but laugh when he stepped away only to grab her by the hand and pull her with him towards the stairs, pausing only to make sure the front door was locked.

The dog watched them go before curling up on the coat Abby had left behind, falling asleep surrounded by the scent of one of his favourite people.

* * *

His hands undressed her slowly, lingering against her skin. His mouth teased and tasted, returning every so often to her own to swallow her sighs and moans of pleasure.

He watched them from the car parked across the street, forgetting about the cold night as anger caused his blood to heat.

When Gibbs lowered her onto the bed, out of his view, Drew hit the steering wheel and swore viciously.

She wasn't *his* to touch or please. She wasn't *his* to love and worship.

Unable to take it anymore, he turned the key in the ignition and revved the engine, the car tires screeching against the tarmac of the road as he drove away. He ground his teeth together and tightened his hands on the wheel.

It wasn't her fault, he knew. There'd be a reason she was sleeping with her boss. Maybe he'd blackmailed her over a mistake she'd made at work – no, that wasn't right. Abby was good at her job, she wouldn't make a mistake. Maybe... Maybe he'd told her she'd be out of a job if she didn't. That made more sense. Abby, Drew knew, was a workaholic. Mikel had told him that, and he'd seen it firsthand himself. So that must be the reason she was over at her boss's house, letting him touch her, letting him...

A noise escaped his throat, a sound caught between a growl and a scream.

He kept driving, resisting the urge to turn the car around and go back. There'd be time to save her later, he told himself firmly, time to make everything right... later.

* * *

Waking up together was a new experience, and not unpleasant at all. Abby stirred reluctantly, not wanting to wake up but forced to when the rational side of her mind reminded her she needed to go home and change her clothes before heading on to the Navy Yard.

She lifted her head from where it had been resting against his shoulder, a pretty blush spreading across her face when she noticed he was already awake and watching her.

"Morning," she greeted him with a sleepy smile, resting her hand against his chest over his heart as she leaned up to kiss him.

He kissed her back sweetly, with less of the urgency they'd shared the night before but just as much tenderness. "Morning."

She shifted to lie down on her side next to him, her hair spilling out across the pillow they shared as she gazed at him, smiling when he turned to face her, lifting a hand to touch her cheek. "I don't want to go," she confessed, leaning into his palm. "Times like this I wish we had normal nine-to-five jobs so we could just call in sick and spend the day like this."

"It'd be nice," he admitted softly, staring at her intently as though he were memorising everything about her.

It was the way he'd looked at her the night before, too, Abby recalled, her blush darkening. Like he wanted to commit every inch of her to memory, like he wanted to touch and taste every part of her and leave nothing unexplored. "I should get up. I've got to go home and change..."

He glanced over his shoulder at the alarm clock before looking back at her. He moved swiftly, covering the gap between them and rolling her underneath him, propping himself up on his elbows either side of her. "You've got an overnight bag in your car, right?"

Nodding after a moment, remembering the emergency supply of clothes she kept in her trunk for occasions when they had to pull overnighters at work, Abby felt the beginnings of a smile play about on her lips. "I do..."

"And I've got a shower..." Gibbs murmured against her mouth. "I'd be happy to share it..."

Abby smiled and wound her arms around his neck. "Very generous of you, Agent Gibbs."

"I'm a generous kind of guy," he replied solemnly. Her giggle was muffled by his lips pressing against hers once more as he set about showing her just how generous he could be.


	14. Chapter 14

Part Fourteen

* * *

It was so easy to forget about everything else in the haze of contentment that settled on her as she drove to work but Abby was brought back down to earth with a bump later that morning after her computer beeped to signal a new email had been downloaded into her inbox.

She half-walked, half-danced over to her computer and hit the button to open her email automatically. She wasn't paying attention at first and it took several moments after she looked up for what she was reading to make sense.

'My dearest Abby,

I'm so glad you're okay and recovering from what Doyle did. I promise if I'd known... Well, I would have taken care of him, I swear. It doesn't matter now, anyway. We can just put the past behind us and look forward to our future, which I'm sure will be wonderful.

Can't wait to see you again, and to finally be with you.

All my love x'

The email wasn't signed with a name, just a kiss. Abby moved the mouse cursor to rest over the delete button and let it hover there, deliberating with herself whether to delete it and dismiss it as the ramblings of her imprisoned ex... or to wonder if it could be more.

"It has to be Mikel," she told herself quietly. It sounded like something he would write, she rationalised, and he mentioned Tommy Doyle by name...

Making her mind up, she clicked on the delete button before she could change her mind, going straight to the deleted items folder to clear it from there, too. On impulse, she found herself reaching for her phone, dialling a number she knew all too well. A few moments later, she hung up after receiving assurances that Mikel Mawher was still behind bars and wasn't due to be released for over a year.

A lot could happen in a year, Abby told herself firmly. He could forget about her, get over his little obsession...

... And if he didn't, she'd be ready for him. She had plenty of time to prepare.

* * *

After a pleasantly quiet morning, Tony decided to take advantage of having no current case and take an extended break with one of his favourite people. He offered to go on a coffee run and got a grunt from Gibbs that could have been permission. When his boss was summoned to MTAC, Tony decided to go with the assumption that he had Gibbs' approval and made arrangements to meet Abby by the elevators.

He'd noticed when she'd walked past his desk that morning that the bright smile on her face had been joined by a glint of something he couldn't recall seeing in her eyes before and saw it as his duty, as a friend, to investigate and make sure it was a good thing.

Linking arms with her, ignoring the questioning looks Ziva and McGee threw them, he led her into the elevators and out of the building.

"So..?" Tony glanced at her expectantly.

Keeping her gaze fixed on the coffee shop sign ahead of them, Abby avoided his gaze. "So."

He slowed his pace deliberately, knowing it would make her look at him. "You gonna tell me what's going on?"

"Nothing? We don't have a case..." The mock innocent look she gave him, the widening of her green eyes might have fooled someone else but not him. He knew her too well. "Stop looking at me like that, Tony!"

He grinned at the exasperation in her voice and nudged her affectionately, picking up the pace a little at her urging. "I wouldn't have to look at you like this if you'd just tell me... C'mon, Abs! Some of us are living vicariously here!"

Abby rolled her eyes at him but said nothing more. She let him open the door for her, walking inside the coffee shop with a smile.

"Abby!" Elliot and Susan, the coffee baristas, stopped what they were doing almost immediately and moved around the counter to greet her. "You're back!"

"It's so good to see you're okay," Susan told her, relief evident in the petite brunette's face. She gave Abby a hug as enthusiastic as any Abby herself could give before stepping back with a blush. "We were so worried when they told us you were ill."

"Hey, I came in and told you guys she was doing okay!" Tony protested but his objection was overlooked as Elliot took his turn in hugging the forensic specialist.

"It's one thing hearing about it, another seeing it for ourselves," Elliot replied as he, too, stepped back. Susan returned to the counter to continue serving the customer she'd been in the middle of taking care of while Elliot ushered the two NCIS employees into a booth in the corner. "So you're sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine." Abby smiled reassuringly, touched by their concern. "Can't say I'm in any rush to drink coffee or Caf-Pow anytime soon but Ducky assures me you guys have plenty of fruit teas I can play around with till I find one I like."

"We've got enough to keep you happy," Elliot grinned and stood up. "So coffee, cream and two sugars for Agent DiNozzo, raspberry and blackcurrant tea for Abby... and a strong, black coffee to go for Agent Gibbs before you make your way back."

Abby's face lit up at the mention of their boss, making Tony smirk. "You know us a little too well, Elliot."

"Good customer service," Elliott called back over his shoulder, leaving them alone so they could talk in relative privacy.

"So," Tony repeated, lifting an eyebrow. "You and boss man seem on better terms."

"Better terms is one way of putting it." Her smile was coy, a blush creeping into her cheeks.

He waited a moment, sighing when she didn't expand on the subject. "So am I just to assume you guys talked and you realised you were completely wrong, and I was completely right?"

"You can assume that," she said after a pause. When he shot her another look, she laughed and leaned forward in her seat. "You really want the details, Tony? Think twice before you say you want to live vicariously through me because he's your boss. You're gonna have to work with him even after finding out that he's really, really good at..."

"Ah, ah, ah!" Tony put his hands up, his expression changing. "I don't need to know everything. Just... Just enough to know you're doing the right thing and that you're happy. Both of you."

Her smile was soft, her eyes shining. "I'm happier than I can remember being in a long time. It's early days but I think I can make him happy, too."

Having seeing the look on his boss's face that morning, and the small smile that played on Gibbs' lips when he thought no one was watching, Tony couldn't help but agree with her. He reached out and covered her hand where it rested on the table, squeezing her fingers. "I'm glad for you," he told her honestly, genuine emotion flittering over his face. "If anyone deserves to be happy, it's you guys."

"You do, too, Tony," Abby assured him, turning her hand over in his to link their fingers. "And you will be, one day. I know you will."

Tony shrugged, saved from having to answer by Elliott returning with their drinks.

* * *

He got more and more frustrated as he listened to them speak. His hand tightened around his cup and he had to bite down on his tongue to keep himself from shouting out loud.

She was a good actress, he'd give her that. If he didn't know any better, she might've been able to convince him she was in love with her boss, too.

He did know better, though. He knew she was just pretending, that there was a reason for her deception. Drew knew where her heart really lay, who her loyalties were with.

Just as he knew where his were, too.

Thoughts of Abby and her boss had kept him awake, tossing and turning in an empty bed knowing she wasn't sleeping alone in the apartment below him. He'd had to reassess the situation, reconsider everything he thought he knew, and he'd come to the same conclusion time after time.

She was his. Drew's. Not Agent Gibbs', not Mikel's. His.

It made perfect sense to him. Why he'd been assigned Mikel as a cellmate, why the ramblings of his friend had only intrigued him rather than annoyed him. Why he'd been able to punish Doyle for hurting her when no one else – not the NCIS agent, not Mikel – had been able to.

Fate had led him to her, and it was fate that she would eventually be his.

He listened to her laughter and tried to pretend she was laughing with him. He watched her link hands with Agent DiNozzo across the table and pretended he could feel her fingers against his own.

When she stood to leave, he looked up and watched her, willing her to look over at him, to acknowledge he was there.

For a moment, he got his wish, their eyes meeting across the coffee shop. Abby blinked, surprise crossing over her face for a few fleeting moments. She opened her mouth as if to say something but was whisked away by Agent DiNozzo.

Drew sat back in his seat, exhilarated, his heart racing in his chest.

There was a connection between them, he knew, one no one could deny.


	15. Chapter 15

Part Fifteen

* * *

After the events of the past few weeks, Abby didn't feel like she could worry her NCIS friends with her concerns about the man she suspected was following her. She didn't want them worrying unnecessarily and there was still a voice in the back of her mind that was reluctant to believe the man's presence was more than just a creepy coincidence.

As for telling Gibbs... Part of her really wanted to. He was the one she almost always went to, the one she knew she could always rely on to protect her and keep her safe. She hadn't gone to him when Mikel had began stalking her, though, because she'd felt self-conscious about her chosen boyfriend and hadn't wanted to have to tell the man she was – at that point – only just beginning to feel romantic feelings for that her questionable ex-boyfriend wasn't willing to accept it was over. Telling him now...

She dismissed the thought after an hour's deliberation, quashing the impulse to run to him. With their relationship in the early stages of its shift, she didn't want him to feel like he was obligated to do something about it. That, and she didn't want him getting into trouble if it was all in her head.

Needing to talk about it with someone, she called her best friend and the bride-to-be, Carol Wilson. They'd gone to college together and had remained close ever since. Locking the sliding security door of her office behind her, Abby checked through the glass that there was no one around before picking up the phone and dialling the familiar number.

Carol answered on the third ring, her voice so full of enthusiasm that Abby had to smile. "Hello, my favourite maid-of-honour! Are you all set for the bachelorette party on Friday? I can't wait! It's going to be so good...!"

"Remember to breathe, Carol," Abby advised with a laugh. "And yes, I'm looking forward to the bachelorette party but that's not why I'm calling..."

"Is it about the final dress fitting tonight?" When Abby didn't immediately say anything, Carol gasped. "Oh, God, tell me you didn't forget! Abby!"

"I didn't forget!" Abby lied, reaching for a pen with her spare hand so she could scribble a reminder to herself on a piece of paper. "I'm meeting you and Hanna there at six, right? Then we're going to grab something to eat?"

Carol laughed in evident relief, her tone light when she spoke. "If you can tear yourself away from that silver fox of yours long enough to spend some time with us, yes. How are things going there, anyway?"

A smile tugged at her lips despite everything. "Things are going great," Abby answered softly. "Better than great, actually. But I'll tell you all about it in person tonight."

"Can't wait to hear the details!" Carol teased. "So, if you're not calling about my wonderful bachelorette party, our dress fittings or anything else related to the wedding of the century, what are you calling me about?"

Her smile fading, Abby glanced again at the glass doors. "It's... I don't know if I'm overreacting," she said with a heavy sigh. "Remember the guy I told you about, the one who walked into me in the coffee shop and I thought it was deliberate?"

"Yeah," Carol answered after a momentary pause. "I remember telling you you were paranoid..."

"And I might be," Abby said with a shrug, "but I keep seeing him everywhere, Carol. He was at the mall the other day, and seemed to be everywhere I went. He was at the coffee shop again this afternoon, watching me."

"Watching you, or just there drinking a harmless cup of coffee?" Carol offered. "I'm playing devil's advocate, Abs, because you don't sound so sure yourself."

Abby sighed and leaned back in her chair. "That's what I want you to do. It's not that I'm not sure, it's that I don't want it to be real. I don't... Things are going so well, Carol. Everything's getting back to the way it should be and things with me and Gibbs are better than normal... I don't want to go around upsetting everyone again if I can help it. But this guy..." Her voice trailed off and she sighed heavily. "He's everywhere I go. If it was just seeing him again in the coffee shop, I'd forget it but it's the way he looked at me, Carol, like he knew me, like he'd been waiting for me to notice him."

"If you've got concerns, you should tell someone," Carol advised her gently. "I'm sure your Agent Gibbs wouldn't mind checking up on the guy..."

"That's exactly why I can't tell him," Abby replied glumly. "If I do, he'll want to protect me. And I love him for that, I do, but I don't want him overreacting and getting into trouble if it's all in my head. I don't know, maybe it's just a lasting side effect of the caffeine poisoning? Paranoia is one of the side effects..."

"But the doctors said you were fine, right?" Concern entered Carol's voice. "You're over it? I mean, I know you won't be completely over it for a while but physically, you're okay?"

"I'm good, yeah," Abby hurried to assure her. "I wouldn't be back at work if I wasn't deemed fit enough." There was a short pause. Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and Abby hit the unlock mechanism just in time for Gibbs to walk up to the doors and activate the automatic sensor. "So, I'll see you later?"

"I take it you've got company?" Carol murmured, dropping her voice as though she could be overheard from the other side of the phone. "Our appointment's at six, so be there just before. And I'm not taking no for an answer now, Abby, you're coming out for dinner after so we can finish this conversation."

Abby nodded, though Carol couldn't see her. "Dress fitting, then dinner," she agreed, rolling her eyes for Gibbs' benefit. "Though we'll have to make it a small dinner so we both still fit our dresses."

"If you say so!" Carol replied. "See you later, Abs. Love you!"

"Love you, too. Bye." Abby waited until she heard the dial tone before hanging up. She looked up as Gibbs approached, smiling at the speculative look on his face. "My other lover," she explained. "You don't mind if I meet him tonight instead, do you...?"

Gibbs merely shrugged. "Since you said you'd both be wearing dresses, I can't say I'm feeling all that threatened..." He tugged her out of her chair and pulled her against him. Kissing her even as she opened her mouth to explain, he felt her arms move to wrap around his neck. Pulling back after several long, intense moments, he gazed down at her. "Still want to meet your other lover?"

"As if there could be one," she answered with a soft, contented sigh, dropping her arms from around his neck to put a reasonable amount of distance between them. "But I do still have to go and meet Carol for our dress fittings, and I promised I'd go for dinner with her and Hanna to have a catch up. It'll be our last chance before the wedding craziness really sets in."

"Will I see you after?" He asked quietly, following her out into the main part of her lab.

Glancing at him over her shoulder, Abby gave him what was almost a shy smile. "If you don't mind waiting, I can be over at your place by no later than ten, ten thirty?"

"I'll be in the basement," Gibbs returned. "Let yourself in."

"If the door's unlocked, I will." She started to turn away but was stopped by him taking hold of her hand and watched as he reached into his pocket with his other hand. Curious, she tilted her head to the side as he turned her hand over before depositing a small, metal object onto her palm. Staring at the object, she felt her heart flutter in her chest before lifting her head, her gaze searching. "Is this...?"

"A key to my place, yeah." He shrugged when she continued to stare at him. "Makes sense, Abs. I should've had one made for you when I got the new lock fitted."

"But we weren't..." She felt herself blush and fought the urge to roll her eyes at herself. "I mean..."

"The lock was never meant to keep you out, Abby." Gibbs covered the gap between them and kissed her cheek softly, a little closer to her lips than was normal. He closed her fingers over the key gently before moving away. "I'll see you tonight."

"You will," Abby murmured, watching him leave before returning her attention to the key in her palm. Her lips started to form a smile but a nagging sensation in the pit of her stomach kept it from staying in place for too long.

She glanced at her computer, remembering the email she'd received that morning. She'd been so sure Mikel had been the sender when she'd first opened it but wasn't as convinced as she remembered the guy from the coffee shop.

There was no way he could know her email address, though, she reminded herself. Sure, he might've heard her name mentioned in the shop, especially if Elliott and Susan were talking about what had happened to her recently but... She shook her head, trying to shake away the thoughts, and subconsciously tightened her hand around the key she held.

Mikel was the danger, and he was safely behind bars. There was nothing else to worry about.

Nothing at all.

* * *

The dress was deep green in colour, with a rich gold sash around her waist. At first, Abby had hated it and decided she would tolerate it for Carol's sake. Admiring her reflection in the full length mirror of the dressmaker's shop, she thought she might have to reconsider.

The long dress hugged her curves in all the right places, gliding over her body like liquid silk. It was respectable enough for the sophisticated ceremony Carol insisted on having but the low dip at the back and the deep square neckline showed just enough flesh to hint at what was hidden beneath it.

Gibbs, she decided, would love it.

"Are you coming out, Abby? It can't be that bad!" Carol called out from behind the curtain of the dressing room.

"Shouldn't she be saying that to you?" Hanna Parker, the other bridesmaid in the wedding party, asked, the grin clear in her voice.

"Hey!" Indignation coloured Carol's tone. "I look fabulous in my dress, and you all know it. You're just jealous."

Abby rolled her eyes as Hanna began her retort and pulled back the curtain, moving to stand in front of them with her hands on her hips. "Children, please. No fighting."

"Oh, hey. You're still here. I thought you'd snuck out a back door or something," Hanna teased. She looked Abby over with a critical eye before nodding her approval. "It looks good. The green suits you."

"Thanks," Abby gave her a grateful smile back. Hanna's dress was the same style but was a dark red in colour, with a gold sash that matched Abby's own. She looked to Carol expectantly, a fond smile curving her lips at the sight of her friend dabbing her eyes with a well-used tissue. "Oh, Carol..."

"I'm sorry, I can't help it," Carol sniffed, waving a hand to dismiss their concerns. "I'm just so happy, and you both look so gorgeous and I'm marrying the most wonderful man and it's all so perfect..."

"Oh, honey." Both Abby and Hanna moved to sit either side of the bride-to-be, each wrapping an arm around her. "You're allowed to be happy."

"And you're allowed to cry," Hanna added, meeting Abby's gaze over Carol's head. She winked and added, "remind me to stock up on the waterproof mascara, Abs. And maybe some waterproofs that match our dresses?"

Abby laughed while Carol glared at each of her bridesmaids in turn. "Laugh all you want now," the bride-to-be huffed. "I'll remember it when it's your turn."

"Not going to happen."

"You'll be waiting a long, long, long time."

Both bridesmaids protested, shaking their heads vehemently.

"Uh-huh," Carol arched an eyebrow. "It'll happen to both of you, just you wait. I always said I'd never get married, that it was just a piece of paper that you don't need if you really love someone and here I am. I'm wearing a cream dress, for crying out loud – with lace! My grandmother would be so proud."

"You look gorgeous in it," Abby was quick to compliment her. "And you only agreed to get married because Harry's parents would have disapproved of you guys living in sin if you didn't."

"Just wait till your silver fox decides he wants to walk down the aisle!" Carol teased, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You'd say yes in a heartbeat and you know it!"

Abby rolled her eyes. "He's been married four times already. I really don't think it's going to be an issue."

"Four times?" Hanna gaped at her. "The guy you're dating has been married *four* times?"

"It's not as bad as it sounds," Abby protested defensively. "There are extenuating circumstances, and it doesn't bother me."

"So you don't mind being his... fifth... wife?" Hanna asked doubtfully.

"Fifth and final!" Carol added with a wink. "Assuming, of course, you guys ever decided to get married..."

"Which will never happen," Abby replied cheerfully. "So moving on with the conversation... If there's nothing more that needs to be done to our dresses, I suggest I get changed and we go get something to eat."


	16. Chapter 16

Part Sixteen

* * *

Just over an hour later, and the three women were not only settled at a table waiting for their food to be delivered but had started on the bottle of wine Carol had insisted they order to go along with it.

Not wanting to start talking about her concerns and ruin what was shaping up to be a lovely evening with friends, Abby changed the subject whenever Carol tried bringing it up, pleased her friend took the hint after three attempts at discussing it.

When their food arrived, they ordered another bottle of wine, all three of them feeling distinctly more relaxed and more than a little tipsy. Abby switched to water after her first glass from the second bottle, reminding them both that she had to be at work the following day.

As their evening drew to a close, Abby pulled out her phone to call for a cab.

"Why don't you call your fox?" Carol suggested with an arched eyebrow, her attempts at looking innocent falling flat. "It'd save you the cab fare..."

"Ooh, yeah, call him!" Hanna agreed, nodding her head enthusiastically. "I wanna see him!"

"It's late," Abby protested. "He's probably..."

"... in bed?" Carol finished for her with a smirk. "I know he's old, Abby, but surely he's not *that* old. Can't see why you'd be so into him if he was..."

Rolling her eyes at the giggles escaping her friends, Abby selected Gibbs from her list of contacts. "I was going to say he's probably had a couple of drinks but I'll call..."

It didn't take him long to answer. "Hey, Abby. You almost done?"

Feeling warm just at the sound of his voice, Abby turned away from her whispering friends. "Just about to call a cab so I thought I'd check you're still okay with me heading straight over to your place?"

She heard the rustle of material in the background, and the sound of something heavy being put down. "I'll come and pick you up," he said as his way of confirming that he was more than okay with the idea. "Where are you?"

"You don't have to do that, Gibbs," Abby insisted, though couldn't quite keep the smile from lighting up her face, much to her friends delight. "I can call a cab..."

"I'll come and get you," he murmured, his tone leaving no room for arguments. "You were going to the Gallery, right?"

"Right. We're at Clydes, so I could meet you outside?"

"See you soon, Abs."

Taking that as a yes, Abby hung up after he did, turning her attention back to her friends and doing her best not to blush at the looks they gave her. "Looks like you're going to get your wish. He's on his way."

Carol and Hanna exchanged a high-five before giving her almost identical grins. "It's so sweet that he's coming to get you."

"Totally sweet," Hanna agreed with a sigh. "And you didn't even need to ask," she pointed out. "That's romantic."

Abby struggled to keep her blush under control and shook her head. "It's not romantic," she protested, "it's because he knows better than anyone how dangerous it can be to be out this late at night. He'd probably be able to quote statistics at you, too."

"Oh, come on, Abby, you think it's romantic, too, or you wouldn't be trying to hide that sappy smile of yours," Carol teased unapologetically.

She good naturedly put up with their teasing for the next half hour but was relieved when she saw the familiar car pull into the street outside. Motioning to her friends that her lift was here, she wasn't surprised at all when they insisted on walking her out even though they planned to stay for a little longer and make a home for themselves at the bar.

Walking a little quicker than her friends, clutching the bag containing her bridesmaid dress to her, Abby approached Gibbs as he got out of the car to greet her and open the passenger's door for her, an apologetic expression arranging her features as she kissed him briefly. "I'm sorry about this; they're insisting I introduce you..."

Glancing over her shoulder at the obviously tipsy women, Gibbs couldn't help but grin a little at Abby's embarrassment. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he stood at her side as they approached, nodding in greeting. "Ladies."

"Ooh, I don't see any ladies around here, do you, Hanna?" Carol gave him a flirtatious smile.

"Nope, but I see a very hot silver fox. Okay, two of them, but if I close one of my eyes and squint a little, there's only one of you," Hanna rambled. "You are so right, Abby. He's hot. Really, really, really hot."

"Hanna!" Hiding her flaming face against Gibbs' shoulder, Abby missed the wink he gave her friends. "Just stop talking, please!"

"Aww, Abby!" Hanna pouted. "Anyone would think you're embarrassed by us..."

"And we haven't started with the embarrassing Abby stories yet," Carol chimed in. She shrugged when Abby lifted her head to glare at her. "Okay, okay, I'll stop for now. But look for me at the wedding, Very Special Agent Gibbs," she continued wickedly. "I've got lots and lots of stories I'm sure you would love to hear about our girl here."

"Oh, yeah, you'll be coming to the wedding, won't you?" Hanna brightened at the thought of being able to torment their friend even further. "As Abby's date? Lucky girl."

"Well, I haven't been asked..." Gibbs answered slowly, arching an eyebrow at the woman snuggled up against his side. "I'd love to be there, or were you planning on taking someone else?"

"As if there could be anyone else!" Carol answered for her, waving her hands dramatically. "You're pretty much all she's talked about for months!"

"Ha. Try years!" Hanna disagreed. "Every time we managed to get together, it was always 'Gibbs this' and 'Gibbs that' and 'you'll never guess what Gibbs did today' and..."

"And I think that's enough from both of you," Abby interrupted, shooting both of her friends a good-natured glare. "We've got to get going and I'm sure the bartender has a fresh bottle of sparkling wine with your names on it already on ice."

"Aww, look! We embarrassed her!" There was no remorse in her tone. In fact, Carol sounded positively gleeful. She moved forward and accepted the hug Abby leaned down to give her. "It's been fun, Abby. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"I'll speak to you then." Straightening, Abby hugged Hanna before taking a step back to stand with Gibbs once more. "Get inside, both of you. The last thing this wedding needs is for the bride and one of her bridesmaid's to get a cold before the big day."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Bossy, isn't she? Wonder if she's bossy..."

"Hanna!"

The two giggling women half-walked, half-stumbled back into the restaurant, while Gibbs ushered an embarrassed Abby around the car to the passenger's side, taking the dress bag from her to put it in the trunk. "I really am sorry about them," Abby murmured, holding onto the car door once he'd opened it for her. "They're a little... merry."

"I like them," he answered, a grin on his face. Leaning closer, he brushed his lips against hers lightly. "Like you more."

"I'm glad." Abby smiled as she got in the car and he shut the door behind her. She watched him walk around the car and get into the driver's side before leaning across to kiss him soundly. "Thanks for coming to get me."

"Anytime."

* * *

They gathered together in an unofficial campfire, one of them always keeping an eye out for their boss. Tony, Ziva and McGee sat on their chairs in the middle of their section of the squad room, talking in low murmurs so that no one could overhear their conversation.

"Do you think we should say something?" Ziva asked quietly. "To let them know that we know?"

"We *don't* know," McGee pointed out, "so how can we tell them that we do?"

Tony fought back a smile; it wasn't often he knew something his teammates didn't but loyalty to Abby, and respect for his boss, kept him from using what he knew to gloat. "What's the point in saying anything? They'll be embarrassed if we're wrong – or mad, in Gibbs' case – and if we're right... Why not just let them tell us in their own time?"

Both Ziva and McGee looked at him in surprise. "That is surprisingly mature of you, Tony," Ziva told him, a suspicious edge in her tone. "Why?"

"No reason." Tony shrugged but struggled to meet their gaze. "I just think they deserve some time to themselves if they are together. And if they're not... We'll all be better off if we don't say anything. Our heads will thank us," he added with a grimace, rubbing the back of his head in memory of the so called 'Gibbs-slaps' – slaps to the back of the head – he'd received from the man they were named after over the years.

"We could wait a while," McGee said slowly, considering Tony's warning. "And see if they tell us, or if they do something that confirms it either way."

"Confirm what, McGee?" Their boss's voice made them all jump and scramble back to their desks with their chairs in tow. Gibbs watched them, a flicker of amusement in his blue gaze before it disappeared. "Dead marine at Norfolk. Gear up."

Tony watched as his teammates got their things together and headed for the elevator. He started to follow only to have Gibbs fall in step with him.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs spoke quietly. "You didn't tell them?"

"Tell who what, boss?" Glancing at Gibbs quickly, Tony shrugged a shoulder. "I know nothing."

Gibbs stared at him for a few seconds before nodding, a quick grin quirking the corners of his mouth before disappearing behind a noncommittal expression. He let his agent precede him into the elevator, lifting his hand on impulse to slap the back of Tony's head.

Tony made a show of flinching, rubbing his head mostly for show, and ducked his head to hide a grin.

* * *

The day of his review meeting with his lawyer had finally dawned. Mikel couldn't help but smile as he was led to the small room where it would be held, butterflies of anticipation dancing in the pit of his stomach.

He almost stopped in surprise at the sight of not his lawyer but Drew sitting at the table waiting for him but managed to school his features quickly. The guard who had led him from his cell nodded at the second guard already in the room and turned, closing the door behind him.

"It's okay, Mikel," Drew said soothingly, standing up when the three of them were alone. "Ian here knows the score. He's going to help us get you out of here."

"Really?" Mikel looked from Drew to the guard, Ian, and back again. "How...?"

Drew opened the briefcase on the table. As Mikel watched, curious, he saw Drew pull the material on the inside of the top of the case away from the sides, ripping it at the seams. After a few seconds, he withdrew a small box and opened it, shaking its contents onto his hand.

Mikel took an instinctive step back as Drew emptied his hand into the plastic cup of water on the table beside the brief case. "What's that...?"

"A small dose of GHB," Drew answered matter-of-factly. "Don't worry, Mikel, you'll be okay," he added soothingly on seeing the alarm Mikel couldn't keep from showing on his face. "You'll be unconscious for a few hours, long enough for us to get you out of here and into the ambulance I've arranged to be on standby."

"An ambulance...?" Mikel repeated.

Drew shrugged a shoulder. "They won't be able to treat you here, so they'll call for paramedics. When they do, my contact will intercept the call and pick us up instead. Ian here will be the guard assigned to come with us. He'll let us go when we've managed to shake off the police escort."

"Really?" Mikel turned disbelieving eyes onto the guard, who couldn't quite meet his gaze. "You'd do that...?"

"For a small fee," Drew replied, the corners of his lips tugging upwards as his eyes lit with a malicious gleam. "Our friend here got himself into trouble with some loan sharks. I promised I'd help him out if he did this little favour for us."

Mikel took a step towards the table, eyeing the cup Drew picked up and held out to him warily. "And you're sure this won't do me any harm? It won't... I won't die?"

Drew rolled his eyes but managed a reassuring smile. "You'll live," he promised, "but you'll feel a little unwell for a while until the drug wears off completely. It's a small price to pay for your freedom, Mikel," he reminded him softly, handing him the cup.

Mikel looked down into the water, his heart pounding in his chest.

"It's the only way," Drew continued quietly, "to get you out of here. To get you back to Abby."

As if her name was the magic word, Mikel found the courage within him to lift the cup to his lips and drank its content in one big gulp.


	17. Chapter 17

Part Seventeen

* * *

The evidence was mounting up, but Abby was having fun going through it all. It was nice to have something else to focus on besides the man who may or may not have been following her and, by the end of the day, she'd decided Carol was right – she was overreacting. There'd been no further sighting of him, not even when she'd taken a break and completed a quick, surprise coffee run for the rest of the team.

Her music filled the air of the lab as she danced from machine to machine, gathering results and emailing them off to both Gibbs and Tony as and when she had them. She smiled when she heard the bell of the elevator and moved over to her computer in preparation, tapping lightly on the keyboard to bring up the information she knew he was going to ask for.

She smiled even wider when she felt him move up behind her, the heat of his front against her back and the soft puff of air against her neck where her pigtails left it bare announcement enough of his arrival in the lab.

"What you got for me, Abs?" He asked quietly, his voice a low murmur that made her stomach flip.

"More than I can give you at work," she quipped, looking over her shoulder to shoot him a flirtatious glance. "But... I can also give you a name and an address of the person who killed Lieutenant Sanders, if that would do in the meantime?"

"It'll do." He shifted slightly, one hand moving to rest on the curve of her waist, blocked from the security camera's view by his own body. "I'm probably gonna be late wrapping this one up. Want a rain check on our date?"

Abby turned her head quickly, a little surprised to find him still standing so close to her. "We could change the reservations and make them later?" She offered, a hopeful note in her voice. "I don't mind missing the movie. I've seen it three times already."

"Then why'd you want to go see it again?" Gibbs shook his head before she could answer, dismissing it as an Abby-ism he wouldn't understand. "Never mind. I'll call the restaurant and see if they can put our table back an hour or so."

"I don't mind doing it," she volunteered, hiding none of her happiness at the thought. It was their first real date and she was looking forward to it. She didn't mind spending evenings in, curled up together with the outside world firmly at bay behind locked doors but the thought of going out, of not hiding that they were together, gave her a thrill she hadn't been expecting. "So, back to work, since I know that's what you're thinking..." With a dramatic flourish, she pulled up the results he'd been waiting for. "The first set of DNA on the knife belongs to a Mr. Louis Jones. He has a history of violent behaviour, which kept him from joining the Navy."

"His link to Sanders?" Gibbs asked, leaning forward more than he needed to but enjoying the contact with her too much to stop himself.

"He was married to a Lisa Sanders before she filed a restraining order and divorced him. She happens to be Lieutenant Sander's sister." Abby tilted her head to accept the kiss to her cheek but stopped him before he could walk away. "There's more if you're interested...?"

"Always," he murmured in her ear, making her shiver. His fingers tightened over her hip momentarily and he leaned in to hear the rest.

"Phoebe Marshall, Lieutenant Sanders' fiancée?" Glancing at him to be sure she had his full attention, Abby clicked on the mouse to bring up the next screen. "She changed her name legally three years ago, from Jones to Marshall. She's Louis Jones' step-sister. Her mother married his father the year after Jones and Lisa Sanders were divorced. You might want to bring her in, too, and ask why I found her fingerprints on the plastic her fiancé's body was wrapped in."

Gibbs rewarded her with a quick smile, kissing her cheek once more. "Good work, Abs. Remind me to thank you properly later."

"Oh, I will," Abby called after him, a smirk on her face. She set the information on screen to print and danced towards the office area of her lab, determined to get a head start on her report so she could enjoy their evening.

* * *

He watched her walk up to the front of the building and disappear inside, pleased she was alone.

Pleased he was.

Drew had decided against bringing Mikel back to his apartment and had instead left his former cellmate recovering in a motel not too far away. He felt a little bad at leaving his friend alone but those feelings of remorse disappeared when he realised it meant he got to spend some time with Abby without anyone else around.

He counted her steps mentally, glancing at his watch. He'd timed her several times and he knew exactly how long it took her to reach her front door, exactly how long it would be before he could imagine her entering her apartment and locking the door behind her.

Only now he didn't need to imagine.

Drew moved over to the television set and sat down on the chair he'd put in front of it. Turning it on, the screen flared to life, showing several live feeds from the cameras he'd spent all night and most of the day - when he'd not been at the prison - installing.

He watched her move from the front door to the living room, sitting on the edge of his seat as she shed her coat. He watched her kick off her shoes and let her purse fall on the couch and tracked her movements on the screens in front of him as she left her living room and walked through the apartment towards her bedroom.

It was the next best thing to being in the room with her, Drew decided, leaning forward eagerly as she went to the dresser and pulled out a bra and panty set from the top drawer, pausing to pick up the fluffy towel warming on the radiator in her bedroom before heading to the bathroom.

He watched her turn on the shower and adjust the temperature before she started removing her clothes. He imagined she was stripping for him as she undressed, that she knew he was watching and took off her clothes with a deliberate slowness for his benefit.

He watched with disappointment as she wrapped a towel around her and moved towards the door of the bathroom, having enjoyed the show. He kept watching as she stopped, her fingers a hairsbreadth from the door handle and felt his heart rise to his throat when she tensed.

She moved slowly, her eyes searching before finally seeming to rest on his, on the camera he'd planted in the ceiling of the room.

* * *

Remembering the new shampoo and conditioner she'd bought but left in her bedroom, Abby wrapped the towel she'd brought with her around her, securing it with a loose knot just above her breasts.

Chiding herself for being so easily distracted – thoughts of Gibbs, she mused with a grin, would do that to a girl – she crossed the bathroom floor and headed to the door.

The feel of something grainy under her bare foot caused her to freeze and she glanced down, frowning at the smattering of sawdust on the floor.

"Where did that...?" She tensed her back and shoulders against a shiver, feeling inexplicably as though she was being watched. Turning slowly, she scanned the bathroom for any sign of anything out of place, lifting her gaze instinctively to the ceiling.

At first she missed it, dismissing it as a trick of the light and steam from the shower. On second glance, though, she couldn't ignore it.

A tiny lens peeked through a small hole in the ceiling, watching her.

For a moment, she froze, nausea rising in her throat. She didn't want to move, didn't want to draw attention to herself but knew it was probably already too late.

Whoever was watching her would already know she knew.

Fumbling behind her for the door handle, she backed out of the bathroom, clutching the towel around her as her heart pounded. Once in the hall, she ran through to the living room, unable to shake the sensation that she was still being watched.

Her hands shook as she opened her purse, searching through it for her cell phone. Gibbs was still at the Navy Yard, she knew, along with the rest of his team, but she knew he'd be out of interrogation and be wrapping up the last loose ends before letting them all go for the evening.

It took two attempts at hitting the right button, her fingers trembling too much. As the phone she held to her ear began to ring, she walked over to the front door of her apartment, making sure the deadlocks were bolted and the security chain was in place.

"Gibbs."

"Gibbs, it's me. I need you to get over here right now. He's here," her words came out in an almost incoherent rush but she couldn't stop. "Please, please, please get over here. He's watching me, there's a camera in the bathroom and probably everywhere else, too..."

"Slow down, Abby, I can barely understand you." She heard him move in the background, his steps quickening. "We're on our way but you need to calm down and explain... Who's watching you? Who's put cameras...?"

"The creepy guy," Abby whispered, moving away from the front door as though expecting it to open at any moment. "He's been following me for weeks. I thought I was imagining it so I didn't tell you but now I know I'm not. There's a camera in my bathroom, Gibbs! I was just about to get in the shower! Oh, God, he probably watched me undress... I feel sick. Oh, God."

"Just breathe, Abby, we're on our way." Gibbs' voice was calm and soothing but she could hear the underlying fear he did his best to keep from her. And the anger, she knew, that she hadn't mentioned it before. "Tell me more about this guy. Where did you first see him?"

She explained everything hurriedly, from the first encounter in the coffee shop to all of the other times she'd seen him. She apologised repeatedly, too, for not telling him sooner but was too shaken to hear his reassurances that it was okay and that they were nearly there.

He'd no sooner told her that they were pulling up outside her apartment and on their way in when a loud bang caught her attention. She looked up and saw a shadowy figure at the living room window, banging on the glass from the fire escape outside.

"He's outside, Gibbs! He's on the fire escape!" She backed towards the front door, unable to take her gaze off the man banging on the window, trying to get in.

Relief mingled with fear when he disappeared and she turned hurriedly, unlocking the deadbolts and unfastening the chain as quickly as she could. She'd only just turned the key in the lock when the door opened and stumbled back a step, terror gripping her at the thought of her would-be assailant being on the other side.

It took a split-second for it to register that the person looking back at her was Gibbs and not the stranger who'd been following her but, when it did, Abby threw herself at him, clinging with all of her strength as she pressed her face against his chest, allowing the feel of his arms sliding around her waist and the sound of his heart beating under her ear calm her.

"Fire escape," she managed, her words muffled. "He was on the fire escape trying to get in."

"DiNozzo and McGee are checking," Gibbs told her, rubbing her back soothingly. He felt her shiver and tightened his arms around her, glancing over his shoulder at Ziva. "Ziva, go check out the bathroom." When his agent left to do as he'd ordered, Gibbs pulled back slightly from the trembling woman in his arms, tilting her face with a gentle hand under her chin. He studied her tear-filled eyes and gave into impulse, letting his lips brush against hers in a soft kiss before drawing her back against him. "You're okay, Abs. You're gonna be okay."

Ziva returned a few moments later, a grim expression on her face. "There is a camera in the bathroom," she confirmed, her dark gaze moving to rest on Abby's back. "I also believe there is a camera in the hallway, the bedroom and in here. There are traces of sawdust on the floors so I believe they've been inserted from the apartment above."

Abby shuddered again, a muffled sob escaping her as she pressed closer to Gibbs.

A breathless Tony and McGee arrived before Gibbs could continue, both looking at the black haired woman in concern.

"There was someone there," Tony told Gibbs, frustration and anger lining his face. "He had a car, managed to get away from us. Sorry, boss."

"Go check the apartment upstairs," their boss instructed them. "Ziva, call it in. Abby..." He eased her reluctantly out of his arms, moving his hands to rest on her bare shoulders, rubbing them reassuringly. "I'm gonna go upstairs and check things out, okay? Ziva'll stay with you. She'll be here if he comes back."

Abby nodded numbly, wrapping her arms around her middle as he moved away. She barely noticed when Ziva moved to her side, leading her to the couch with an arm around her waist, barely aware of anything but the sickening knowledge that the threat wasn't imagined, it was all too real.


	18. Chapter 18

_My huge thanks to Lisa for proofreading, and to all of you who've commented/reviewied/added this story to your favourites/alerts. Really, truly, completely and utterly appreciate all of your support. *hugs to all*_

Part Eighteen

* * *

Gibbs watched Abby break down, tears slipping down her cheeks as she went into Ziva's willing embrace on the television screen in the apartment above hers, his hands clenching into fists.

The photographs of Abby that decorated the walls of the living room unnerved him but it was the live feed that bothered him the most, especially when he looked at the small screens representing other rooms in her apartment and saw Ziva had been right; the bastard had been watching her in her bedroom, in her bathroom, as well as in her living room, kitchen and hallways.

There wasn't one room that wasn't covered by the scope of the cameras, not one area of the apartment where she could have sat unobserved by the stranger above her.

It made him sick and it made him angry.

"Boss?" Tony approached him cautiously, dropping his gaze when Gibbs looked up at him. "We found more photographs in the bedroom. You, ah, you might want to take a look."

Following his senior agent through to the room in question, Gibbs clenched his jaw and fought the urge to hit something. There were more photographs of Abby, taken over what looked to be an extended period of time. His gaze swept swiftly over them, his stomach churning as he gazed at several of her in various states of undress, the anger returning in a flood of heat as he saw several that had been taken through the windows of his own home, showing himself and Abby in heated embraces they had thought private.

Pulling one of the more revealing photographs down, Gibbs glared at McGee before he could protest. "She doesn't need to know about this," he told his agents, a warning note creeping into his voice. "Take your pictures then put these away. Keep them separate from the others. If we can avoid her seeing them, we will."

Both Tony and McGee nodded, neither willing to argue with him.

Gibbs surveyed the rest of the room, the nausea building at the crumpled sheets. The person responsible had slept here, above where Abby herself had slept. He'd watched her, invaded her privacy in almost every way, and slept, probably without a modicum of guilt.

That thought alone was enough to make him see red, and it only made him all the more determined to catch the man behind it and make him pay.

McGee returned to the apartment within minutes, his bag over his shoulder and camera in hand. He passed the bag to Tony and started taking photographs, leaving Tony and Gibbs to don gloves and gather evidence.

"There's some used tissues in the trash," Tony said sedately. "Take a picture, McGee, so I can bag them. Might get a match from the DNA..."

Gibbs ground his teeth together, forcing himself not to think about what kind of DNA samples Tony was referring to. He waited for McGee to take pictures of the photographic collage in front of him before taking them down systematically, his need for revenge growing with each one he looked at.

The three agents worked in silence until Ziva arrived, her expression clearly showing her distaste at what she saw.

"Ducky is with Abby," she said by way of explanation when Gibbs looked at her. "She asked me to check the cameras were no longer transmitting so that she can get dressed."

"Shut them off, McGee," Gibbs ordered instantly, berating himself internally for not thinking of it sooner. "Get her to pack what she needs. She's not staying here."

Ziva gave him a nod of acknowledgement and waited until McGee announced the camera feed had been disabled before retreating to the apartment below.

It was all too easy for the remaining agents to picture their forensic specialist, shaken and upset and scared out of her mind. Each of them swore they'd do whatever they had to do to make her feel safe again, to keep her protected and keep whoever was responsible as far away as possible.

* * *

The weary group made their way back to the Navy Yard in the early hours of the morning. There'd been no time for sleep as they'd processed the scene, with each of the agents hoping they'd be able to grab an hour's sleep at their desks throughout the day ahead.

Abby herself was too anxious to even try sleeping, certain that only nightmares and darkness awaited her. She told herself she would rather face Gibbs' anger than face the monster her imagination would no doubt conjure.

She sat at Gibbs' desk as the agent in question went to report to Director Vance, while Tony, McGee and Ziva all took advantage of the momentary lull in activity to catch a few moments rest at their own desks. The evidence gathered from the apartment above hers was sitting in a box on the end of Gibbs' desk and Abby found herself fighting a twisted sense of curiosity.

She wanted to see what was inside it, what the stalker had that had obviously unnerved her colleagues but at the same time... Her friends were seasoned agents and even they had reacted to whatever was inside the box. It might have been because the evidence in the box was linked to her in some way or it might have been that whatever they'd found...

Just about to reach for the box, Abby was startled at the sound of footsteps on the stairs coming down from the upper level and looked up to find Gibbs taking them two at a time, his phone pressed to his ear and an expression like thunder on his face. He muttered something into the phone and hung up before he reached the ground floor, the force with which he shut his phone causing his agents to sit up in their seats.

"What's going on, Boss?" Tony asked, barely able to stifle a yawn. "We get a lead...?"

"We've got something," Gibbs muttered darkly. "Mikel Mawher was released from prison yesterday afternoon on medical grounds. The ambulance he was in didn't reach the hospital. It was recovered this morning two miles from the prison. The guard was found with it, shot twice in the back."

Instantly, the three agents sat up straighter.

"You think Mikel may be involved in this?" Ziva asked quietly, her gaze switching between Gibbs and Abby. "That he has orchestrated it from prison?"

"I wouldn't put anything past that guy," Tony muttered, his disgust evident. "He's a little creep..."

"Why would he ask someone else to follow me, spy on me?" Abby interjected, her green gaze reluctantly meeting Gibbs' cool blue stare. "Mikel wouldn't like that. He'd be too jealous, too possessive. He'd hate the thought of someone else being able to do what he can't. Besides, the guy I keep seeing has been following me for weeks, since before everything with Doyle kicked off. That was the first time I remember seeing him, in the coffee shop..."

Her voice trailed off at the look on Gibbs' face. She bit her lip and stared down at the desk, waiting.

She wasn't disappointed. He moved quietly but swiftly, until he was standing in front of her, leaning over her. His voice was soft but in a way, that was worse. She would have preferred loud fury as opposed to the soft, restrained anger mingled with the hurt she could hear so clearly in his voice.

"If you thought something was wrong weeks ago, why didn't you say anything, Abby? Why didn't you come to me?" Gibbs waited only a heartbeat for her to reply. "Thought we both knew where we stood on that after last time."

"I didn't want to worry you," Abby said, her voice just as quiet as his. She lifted her gaze and looked up, wishing she could erase the hurt in his eyes, wishing she could say something to dispel the anger. "Hear me out, Gibbs, please. I didn't know at first that he was really following me, I thought it was in my head, that maybe it was a lingering effect of the caffeine poisoning making me paranoid. By the time I realised it wasn't... I didn't want to believe it, and I didn't want to say anything to you in case..."

"In case what, Abby?" His voice was calm, steady. It made her feel even worse.

She sighed heavily and clasped her hands together in her lap. "I didn't want you to feel like you were obligated to do something because of what's going on between us. I didn't... I thought if I told you, it'd be forcing your hand a little and you might feel like you had to do something even though I had no proof to give you that it wasn't just a coincidence. I wanted to be sure, at first, and then I wanted to be wrong..."

"So because we're together, you felt you couldn't come to me about it. Is that it?" Gibbs' eyes flashed dangerously. "Or because we're together, you thought I wouldn't be able to control myself, that I wouldn't be able to think rationally?"

"Would you?" Abby asked softly. "I know how you get when the people you care about are in danger, Gibbs. I've *seen* you. And I don't want you getting into trouble because of me, because I'm not..."

"Not what?" Gibbs' voice took on a sharp edge. "Not worth it?"

She shrugged a shoulder but couldn't meet his gaze. "I'm not worth your career or your life, Gibbs."

"Funny how when our situations were reversed you were willing to throw everything away for me, isn't it?" He murmured, dropping his voice so his eavesdropping agents couldn't hear. "If we're not doing this on equal footing, Abby, we've got a problem."

"Maybe we do," she responded just as quietly, clasping her hands tighter to keep them from trembling.

Gibbs stood, glaring at the three agents doing their best to make it look like they hadn't been listening to their conversation. "Ziva, take Abby back to your place. Get some sleep. McGee or DiNozzo will be over to relieve you in an hour. DiNozzo, take that stuff down to the lab."

Abby forced herself to stand, hating the way her legs trembled. "I can work," she protested. "I need..."

"You need to go," Gibbs retorted sharply. His expression softened only marginally when she took a step back in surprise. "You need some sleep, Abby, so you can come back tomorrow and focus on what needs to be done. We'd all be able to concentrate better knowing you're somewhere safe."

She wanted to argue that she'd be safe in her lab but the events of the last few weeks replayed themselves in her mind, an unpleasant reminder that her lab wasn't necessarily the safe place she'd always wanted to believe it was. She gave him a reluctant nod and brushed by him on her way to Ziva's desk, half hoping he'd reach out and hug her, hoping he'd reassure her that everything would be okay.

Her heart broke when he let her walk away.


	19. Chapter 19

Part Nineteen

* * *

While spending time with Ziva was always nice, Abby couldn't help but wish she was somewhere else. It had hurt when Gibbs had given her the order to accompany Ziva to her apartment, making it clear to both her and his agents that he wasn't going to open his door to her and offer her his home.

Her hand tightened around the key she'd taken out of her purse, the sharp edges digging into her flesh, leaving an imprint against her palm.

She hadn't wanted to hurt him but she knew she had. She hadn't wanted to upset him but it was obvious that he was.

And everyone knew it, too. She curled up on the bed in the spare room of Ziva's apartment, hating the sensation of tears stinging her eyes. He'd always been there for her in the past, always been willing to have her stay over at his place if she was scared or in trouble. It seemed ironic to her that that would change after they'd become lovers but a little voice at the back of her mind told her that she only had herself to blame.

She didn't know what to make of their falling out; it was so rare for them to be at odds with one another. Was it the end of their fledging relationship or just a hurdle they had to try and get over?

"Abby?" Ziva's voice was soft, almost timid. Abby looked up to find the other woman standing hesitantly in the doorway, a look of absolute sympathy on her face. "Are you okay?"

"Would you believe me if I said yes?" Abby tried to smile but couldn't hold it in place for long.

"Oh, Abby." Ziva crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, letting a hand rest on Abby's shoulder as the black haired woman curled up further, her head resting on Ziva's knee. "It will be okay. We will catch Mawher, and whoever is behind this, I promise."

Abby closed her eyes, wishing the reassurances were enough. "Can you promise to make Gibbs like me again?"

"I would not need to do anything to keep that promise, Abby. Gibbs likes you. He loves you," Ziva corrected quietly, her hand stroking Abby's hair soothingly. "We all know it. You are his favourite, yes?"

"I was his favourite," Abby muttered. "Then I screwed it up. I should've known I would..."

"You have not screwed anything up." Ziva kept her voice quiet but there was a stern note to it that caught Abby's attention. "You and he may have had a falling out but you will make up again. You mean too much to one another not to do so."

Opening her eyes, Abby shifted so she could look up at her friend. "You don't understand, Ziva. Things are... They're different now."

"Because you are lovers, yes?" Ziva arched an eyebrow at the look of surprise that passed over Abby's features. "Did you really think we did not suspect? You did not see him when you were in hospital, Abby, and you did not see yourself when he went to Mexico. You have had romantic feelings for one another for some time now. It makes sense that you would chose to act on those feelings after almost missing out on the opportunity."

Abby stared at her, speechless. After a few moments, she sat up, running her fingers through the hair of one pigtail. "You know? You all know?"

"We suspected," Ziva corrected kindly. The smile that had appeared on her face faded as she remembered where their confirmation had come from. She hesitated, not wanting to make Abby feel worse but feeling her friend deserved to know the truth. "It was confirmed when we saw some of the photographs that had been taken of you."

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Abby bit down on her bottom lip. "I know there were photographs but no one would tell me what they were of."

"I will tell you if you are sure you want to know." Ziva's expression was solemn. "No one wants to see you upset any further, Abby."

Nodding, Abby considered whether she really wanted to know or whether she'd prefer to live in blissful ignorance. Reminding herself that she wanted to be able to go back to the Navy Yard and work the case, she squared her shoulders and held Ziva's gaze. "Tell me."

As Ziva explained what they'd found in the apartment above Abby's own, she reached out to take her friend's hand. She told her about the photographs that clearly showed how close Abby's relationship with Gibbs had grown, about those that had been taken of Abby in various situations over an extended time period. She told her about the television screen split into mini screens with a live feed from each of the cameras found in Abby's apartment and tightened her hand around Abby's own when tears slid in earnest down Abby's cheeks.

"We will find him," Ziva vowed, drawing Abby against her, resting her cheek on the top of her friend's head. "Believe me, Abby, we will not let him get away with this."

Her promise was heard but Ziva wasn't sure if it was believed. Abby cried herself to sleep, exhausted by the events of the previous twenty four hours and sickened by the invasion of her privacy. When McGee arrived two hours later to relieve his teammate, it was to find Abby asleep and Ziva more troubled than ever.

"Is she okay?" McGee asked, keeping his voice down after being told their charge was sleeping fitfully in the guest room.

Ziva gave him a look that suggested it was a stupid question, only to shake her head and sigh heavily. "I am worried she might not be," she admitted, shrugging into her jacket as she prepared to leave her apartment and head back to work. "Tell her I will call if we learn anything new."

"I will." McGee watched her go, locking the door securely behind her before crossing over to the couch, sitting down and letting his head fall against the back of it in exhaustion.

* * *

On arriving at the Navy Yard, Ziva headed straight for NCIS Headquarters and, once past security, straight to the squad room to get updated on the case. She was disappointed that there hadn't been any break through though pleased that Tony was able to tell her they thought they'd identified Abby's stalker.

"He does look familiar," Ziva murmured, studying the photograph of Drew Barton. "I believe I have seen him before."

"Probably, if he's the guy Abby was talking about. We'll need her to make a positive ID to be sure." Tony ran a hand through his already tousled hair, his green eyes tired. "Barton was Mawher's cellmate for five years. He was released two months ago, around the same time as Tommy Doyle. They were known to associate with each other inside so even if he's not the guy Abby saw, it looks like he was Doyle's partner in everything that happened to us."

Ziva wrapped her arms around her waist, steeling her spine against a shiver as she stared at the image on screen. "He is more than likely behind Mawher's escape. If they are working together..."

"Boss is up talking to Vance about setting up another safe house, but I don't think Abby'll go for it. She won't want to be away from everyone she knows right now." Tony stifled a yawn with the back of his hand. "Makes you wonder, if they're working together, which one of them is more obsessed with her and what'll happen when they realise they're each other's competition."

Not wanting to thinking about it, Ziva turned away from the screen and studied him. "You are tired, Tony. Perhaps you should go down to the lab and get some sleep on Abby's futon? I'm sure Gibbs will not mind."

Tempted, he ran his hand through his hair again and looked up at the stairs leading to MTAC and the Director's office. "I could use an hour of shut eye," he admitted. "But..."

"No buts," Ziva interrupted. "I will tell Gibbs I sent you and we can call if we need you."

He gave her a grateful smile and left towards the elevators, his steps slow and sluggish. Ziva waited until he was gone before taking a seat at his desk, ready to continue his work. When Gibbs appeared almost an hour later, she was engrossed in reading the criminal profile that had been created on Barton when he had first been arrested.

"Done something different with your hair, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked dryly, walking around to his own desk.

Startled momentarily by the sound of his voice, it took Ziva a few moments to react. "Tony is sleeping in Abby's lab. I told him to go," she added when Gibbs looked up. "He is shattered, Gibbs. He is still recovering from his injuries..."

"I know. It's fine." Gibbs shrugged, the conversation over as far as he was concerned.

Ziva, however, had other ideas. She picked up the file and stood, heading for her own desk before changing track and heading to his. "Abby is afraid you no longer love her," she said bluntly, holding his gaze steadily when he looked up at her. She shrugged a shoulder. "She used the word 'like' but I understood what she meant."

Gibbs held her gaze for a moment before returning his attention to the open file on his desk. "None of your business, Agent David."

"It is my business when my friends are hurting," Ziva countered. "You are both my friends, yes?" She waited a few seconds for him to answer, unsurprised when he didn't. "If you love her as much as I believe you do, you will not allow her to suffer any longer."

She turned on her heel and retreated to her desk, knowing he wouldn't respond. She was satisfied, however, less than five minutes later when he got up from his desk, cell phone in hand, and started towards the elevators.

Looking up when the bell rang to announce it had arrived, Ziva expected to see Gibbs walk into it and leave. Instead, she saw McGee and Abby disembark, a distressed expression on the forensic specialist's face. Getting to her feet, she reached them just in time to hear Gibbs ask what was wrong.

"Mawher called her," McGee answered for an obviously shaken Abby, who stood with her arms wrapped around her middle, looking as lost as Ziva had ever seen her. "He said he was in trouble, asked for help, and then the line went dead."

"Trace it," Gibbs ordered brusquely. He looked as though he was about to reach out for Abby but changed his mind, making Ziva sigh as she moved past him to wrap her friend in a reassuring embrace.

* * *

"You really don't have to be here, Abby," Tony told the forensic specialist as they made their way up to her apartment. "We could've done this without you."

Abby shook her head but tightened her arms around her middle. "I need to get more clothes, and my bridesmaid dress anyway."

They were all a little disturbed when McGee traced the phone call as originating from Abby's apartment and, despite their assurances that she could have stayed at NCIS with Ducky, Abby had insisted on joining them.

"You are still going to be in the wedding?" Ziva asked, glancing at Gibbs to see what his reaction was. Other than a tightening of his jaw, he didn't seem to have one. "Does your friend know what is going on?"

"I told her," Abby said as they reached her floor. "She said she'd understand if I backed out but I can't do that to her. She's been planning this forever..."

Her voice trailed off as they reached her apartment door. Wordlessly, the team moved into position, with Gibbs and Tony leading them into the apartment, Ziva providing them with back up and McGee lingering outside with Abby until it was deemed safe enough for them to enter.

Walking through the door, Abby found herself looking around, trying to see if there was anything out of place or missing. She couldn't see anything out of order but the skin on her arms prickled and she found herself squaring her shoulders against a shiver.

"Can I go and get my things?" She asked Gibbs quietly, not wanting to spend any longer than she had to in her apartment.

Gibbs nodded and looked to his agents. "Go check upstairs," he ordered his agents, following Abby as she made her way into her bedroom.

Her sense of unease only grew as she began to gather items of clothing, her hands trembling as she opened the first drawer of her dresser. She was just about to pick up a handful of underwear when she changed her mind, shaking her head and backing away. "Maybe I'll just buy new stuff," she murmured, unable to get the thought of someone else going through her things out of her mind. "The dress is the only thing I can't really replace."

"If you don't feel like going to the mall yourself, I can send Ziva," Gibbs offered, the sound of his voice startling her. He moved to stand behind her, his arms slipping around her waist. "Come home with me tonight?"

It surprised her that it was phrased as a question, not an order. Turning in his arms, Abby looked up at him. "Are you asking because you want me to or because you feel like you should offer?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want you there, Abby." He lifted one hand to her face, running a finger over her cheekbone before cupping her cheek with his palm. "I don't want you anywhere I can't reach you if you need me. And I don't want you thinking I don't love you - because I do."

Her eyes stung and she leaned into his palm. "I love you, too."

"I won't let anyone hurt you, Abby," he murmured, his voice a touch lower than normal. "Let's get your dress and get out of here."

She turned away from him reluctantly and walked towards her closet. Opening the door, she lifted her hand instinctively to reach for the dress she'd left hanging up only to recoil in horror, a cry she wasn't aware of making escaping her.

In a heartbeat, Gibbs was beside her, gently turning her away while calling for his agents.

She closed her eyes and pressed her face against his chest, clinging to him desperately but nothing he said or did could displace the image of Mikel Mawher's lifeless body hanging in place of her dress.


	20. Chapter 20

_My love, hugs and thanks to each and every one of you for supporting me and the story. Can't say enough how much I appreciate it! _

Part Twenty

* * *

It was strange that a man he'd once considered to be such a threat in life could appear so defenceless in death. The same could be said, Gibbs mused about any serial killer or murderer, any child abuser or thug.

Mikel Mawher lay on a gurney in the morgue, covered with a sheet up to his shoulders to hide the Y-shaped incision Ducky had already made and sewn up. He looked older than Gibbs remembered him being, though years in prison had no doubt helped age the once animated young man who had been unable to let Abby go.

It was the one thing Gibbs thought they might have had in common though he was certain he could never sink to the lows Mawher had in order to keep her. He couldn't imagine threatening her, scaring her, while Mawher had seen that kind of action as his only option. It still scared Gibbs how single-minded Mawher had become, how close he'd gotten to Abby before he'd been arrested.

He still saw the handwritten note Mawher had faked in his nightmares sometimes, supposedly from Abby professing her love for Mike and explaining she had killed herself rather than try and live without him. She hadn't written the note, he knew that, and after an initial moment of heart-stopping fear, he'd noticed the small differences between the note and Abby's familiar handwriting.

When Mawher had been sentenced, Gibbs had felt a huge sense of relief that was only marred by his desire to make the man pay for the fear he'd put in Abby's eyes. He'd meant what he'd said to Mawher on their first meeting, that had he known about him sooner, Mawher wouldn't have been left standing. Remembering how lost Abby had seemed in his basement the night Mawher was finally caught, Gibbs found himself wishing he'd had the opportunity for a one-on-one meeting with Mawher away from the incriminating security cameras in interrogation.

Reflecting on the past, Gibbs remembered how it was that night in his basement he'd become aware of his feelings for the forensic specialist beginning to shift for the first time. He'd told himself repeatedly, trying to convince himself, that the surge of protectiveness he'd felt was because he cared for her as a friend as well as a colleague, even as a family member. He'd been prepared for that but not for the feeling of envy that had washed through him, the fierce sense of possessiveness he'd felt after learning about the existence of her former lover.

He'd pushed it to the side, worked through the case, but standing behind her, his hand guiding hers over the sanding block as they worked together on his boat... The attraction that had always simmered between them had flared up and if she hadn't been so vulnerable, not to mention so drunk, he was sure their relationship would have changed course that night.

"Ah, Jethro. I wondered when you would join us." Ducky's voice broke through his musings and Gibbs looked up to see his friend had joined him, standing on the other side of the gurney. "While Mr. Mawher is not someone I had hoped to meet, I find myself relieved that he can no longer hurt our dear Abigail. How is she?"

"She says she's fine. She's in her lab, insisting she work this through. She ID'ed the guy who's been following her as Mawher's cellmate." Gibbs stifled a sigh. "I told her to rest but she said she can't close her eyes without seeing him."

"Unsurprisingly," Ducky sympathised. "You mustn't forget, Jethro, there was a time she once cared for this unfortunate young man. No matter what her feelings for him now, she will no doubt have some pleasant memories of him, too."

Not wanting to dwell on those thoughts, Gibbs clenched his fists and changed the subject. "How did he die, Duck? Asphyxiation?"

"I thought that, at first," Ducky answered, moving swiftly with the change in conversation. "However, the majority of bruising around the neck was done posthumously, most likely by the rope used to hang him. Cause of death didn't become apparent until I received the toxicology report. Mr. Mawher died of an overdose of Gamma-Hydroxybutyric acid. GHB."

After a momentary pause, Gibbs nodded. "Can you tell if he took it voluntarily?" He asked quietly.

"It would appear not," Ducky answered with a small shake of his head. Using his gloved hand, he lowered the sheet and stretched the skin of Mawher's chest between his fingers, making it taunt enough for Gibbs to see a tiny pinprick. "I believe this was the injection site, directly into pulmonary vein. It wouldn't have made much of a difference where his killer injected it, given how much was used, but death would have been quite quick for our friend."

"Not a friend, Ducky," Gibbs corrected sharply. "He's never been that."

Ducky contemplated the agent in front of him in silence for a few moments. "Should I ask how you're handling these developments or draw my own conclusions?" He sighed when Gibbs remained silent. "I heard there have been developments outside of this, too, between yourself and Abby?"

"Whoever you've been hearing from obviously doesn't have enough work to do," Gibbs retorted, starting to turn away.

"Jethro." Something in Ducky's voice caused the NCIS agent to stop and half-turn back. "You know that I care for you both a great deal but I feel I must say this in place of Abigail's own father. If you hurt the girl..."

"Don't worry about it, Duck," Gibbs replied, staring at the reflection of his friend in the doors in front of him. "If I hurt her, I'll be first in line to kick my ass."

"I know," Ducky murmured. "That's what I'm afraid of." He met Gibbs' gaze when the agent turned in surprise. "You are your own worst enemy at times, Jethro. I ask out of affection for both Abby and yourself that should it become necessary, and I don't believe it will, that you'll let me be first in line."

Understanding it was Ducky's way of trying to protect them both – all of them, he thought – Gibbs could only nod in reply before making his way out of the morgue, taking the first steps back to Abby's side.

* * *

Mikel's lifeless eyes haunted him. He kept remembering how his friend had fallen limp shortly after he'd injected the GHB into his system, kept seeing those sightless eyes staring up at the table, his shocked features growing slack as death set in.

Drew paced the confines of the motel room he'd reserved for his former cellmate, unable to bring himself to lie on the bed where Mikel had breathed his last.

If Mikel had tried to understand, things might have ended differently. If only his friend had listened to his reasoning, realised that it was fate's decision, not Drew's, for Abby to belong to him.

The look of betrayal that had crossed Mikel's face replayed in his mind, as did the distraught anger. He'd locked his friend in the bathroom after telling him, turning up the TV to drown out the sounds of his shouts and the pounding on the bathroom door.

It was only when Mikel had fallen silent that he'd grown suspicious, opening the door to find his supposed friend on his cell phone to the woman they both loved.

Rage had blinded him and he'd lashed out. Drew hadn't been conscious of hitting the other man, of dragging him through from the bathroom. He hadn't registered Mawher's plea for Abby to help him as he'd pinned down his former cellmate, reaching for the syringe he'd prepared for a worst case scenario.

It'd taken five minutes after he'd injected the drug into his friend's chest for him to realise that Mikel wasn't just playing dead.

He regretted that Mikel had had to die but Drew didn't regret the sense of freedom that had come with it. He no longer had to feel guilty about pursuing Abby, about going through with his plans for her. With Mikel out of the way, there was nothing standing between them in his eyes, no obstacle that their love wouldn't be able to overcome.

When the guilt started to seep in, he reminded himself of Mikel's own words when he'd first opened up about the events that had landed them together in the same cell. He remembered hearing Mikel's plan, recalled how Mikel had said he'd written a suicide note in handwriting as close to Abby's own as he could manage and felt the guilt begin to die away.

He'd done it for her, Drew told himself firmly. For Abby. Yes, Mikel had been his friend but Abby was so much more than that. She was the reason he'd done it, so she would be safe and they could be together.

No matter how many times he told himself that, however, the memory of Mikel's eyes wouldn't fade.

* * *

If the dressmaker who had agreed to step in and copy the design of Hanna's bridesmaid dress in order to replace the missing dress of Abby's found it strange the maid of honour was accompanied by two federal agents, she at least had the sense not to comment on it.

Both Hanna and Carol were at the shop to support their friend, along with Gibbs and Tony who were on security detail. Ziva had stayed at NCIS Headquarters to review the security footage from Drew's visits to Mikel in prison while McGee was doing all he could to track Abby's stalker through his financial records.

Standing in front of them as the dressmaker adjusted the length of the dress, Abby folded her arms across her chest and found herself looking every so often out of the window at the front of the shop. She kept expecting to see Drew Barton on the other side, watching her, and she jumped every time something or someone moved, causing the reflections to shift at the corner of her vision.

"Relax, Abs," Gibbs murmured, the sound of his voice drawing her gaze. "He's not coming anywhere near you."

"What if he's watching now?" Abby countered, her fingers digging into her arms. "What if he's out there, looking at us, taking pictures...?" She broke off with a shudder, her eyes suspiciously bright.

"I can go and look around if it'd make you feel better?" Tony volunteered, hating the flash of fear on her face. He looked to Gibbs for guidance. "Want me to check, Boss?"

Gibbs gave him a small nod on seeing the expression that flittered over Abby's features. "If you see him, call. Don't try to handle him on your own."

With a nod to show he understood, Tony left the shop, the bell above the door ringing merrily as he closed it behind him. The noise sounded too cheerful, too loud in the otherwise quiet shop and it made Abby sigh softly.

"Agent Gibbs?" Carol spoke up for only the second time since arriving at the shop, the bride-to-be's mood somewhat more sombre than it had been when he'd last seen her. "I was wondering if you and your team would agree to come to the wedding, since Abby's determined to be there? I'd feel better knowing you guys were looking out for her."

Gibbs looked at her, a glimmer of approval in his eyes. "If it wouldn't be a problem, we'd be happy to."

"Great." Relief lit up Carol's face. "I'll tell Harry to add you guys to the guest list. Oh, and the bachelorette party on Friday... Do you think we should cancel it?"

"No!" Abby and Hanna answered before Gibbs could. "We're not letting this spoil anything for you, Carol," Abby said firmly.

"There's no reason Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo couldn't come to the party, too!" Hanna chimed in, a mischievous glint in her eye. "They could be the entertainment... I'd even get some $5 bills to replace the $1's I was going to use..."

"Hanna Parker!" Carol tried to sound stern but a laugh broke through. "You're talking about one of your best friend's... partner? Boyfriend? What are you guys calling each other?"

Gibbs thought about objecting to the line of questioning but caught a glimpse of the slight smile on Abby's lips, accompanied by a blush he found endearing. It was the first time he'd seen her smile since finding the cameras in her apartment and he realised he'd do anything to keep it from disappearing. "I'm off the market but DiNozzo's available," he found himself saying instead. "You could probably stick with the ones, though. I've heard he's a cheap date."

As Hanna laughed and started to plan her seduction of his agent, Gibbs watched Abby and Carol watched Gibbs. He glanced at the other woman when he sensed her gaze on him, arching an eyebrow as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

"In all seriousness," Carol began quietly, "the bachelorette party is supposed to be tomorrow. The club gets quite crowded. If we can't cancel it, we could maybe move the location?"

"No," Abby repeated, her smile vanishing. "You wanted it at the club, we're having it at the club. Do you know how much sweet-talking and flirting I had to do to get them to give us the VIP section for the night? It's the one thing you wanted for the party and you're going to get it."

"We could place agents inside," Gibbs cut in before Carol could protest, seeing how important it was to Abby though making a mental note to ask her later about the 'sweet-talking and flirting' she'd had to do to secure the location. "Ziva could join the party, if you don't mind, Carol, and the rest of us can be in the background."

"You'd do that?" Carol wondered aloud, tilting her head to the side. "As much as Harry loves me, I don't know if he'd brave a bachelorette party for me."

Gibbs looked to Abby as he answered, holding her gaze intently. "If it keeps Abby safe, I'll be there."

Carol smiled, both relieved her party would go ahead and pleased at the blush that darkened Abby's cheeks. She leaned back in her seat as Hanna sighed a little enviously, satisfaction on her face. "It's decided then," she said as the door opened to readmit Tony. "You'll all be there."

"All be where?" The returning agent asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer when Gibbs smirked as Hanna winked at him.

Abby caught Gibbs' gaze and gave him a grateful smile, her arms dropping to her sides as the dressmaker continued to move around her silently.


	21. Chapter 21

Part Twenty-One

* * *

While she wasn't thrilled at the thought of going to a bachelorette party, Ziva decided she would put up with it for Abby's sake. She saw a glimpse of the old, excitable Abby as they worked together on decorating the VIP section of the club with the balloons and streamers and banners Abby had bought in preparation and hoped her friend would enjoy the evening.

Even as the group of women at the party increased, all of them giggling like teenage girls as a continuous supply of cocktails from the bar were brought to them, Ziva found herself watching Abby and enjoying herself purely because her friend was.

Although a little wary at first, Abby seemed to get into her stride as the party progressed and played the part of maid-of-honour perfectly, teasing the bride-to-be and making sure Carol was both enjoying herself and suitably embarrassed. The gifts that were opened were enough to make Ziva feel her cheeks flood with heat on occasion, and she found herself being glad that her teammates were sitting far enough away that the items would be sheltered from their view by most of the women sitting at the tables and couches around her.

As the party drew to a close in the early hours of the morning, Ziva lingered with Abby as one by one, the guests bid their farewells to the guest of honour and stumbled out of the club and into the taxis waiting for them. She was impressed to see Abby had adopted responsibility for all of the women in attendance, making sure they all had safe ways of getting home and escorted those who'd drunk more than others to the doors of their awaiting vehicles.

"You take your maid-of-honour responsibilities seriously," Ziva commented as she helped Abby put the presents in one of the many bags scattered around the VIP area. Carol was sleeping soundly on one of the couches, oblivious to the chatter around her or the music that seemed to vibrate through the floors.

Almost everyone else from the party had left though the club was still crowded with other patrons. Hanna Parker, Ziva noticed with amusement, was busy trying to convince both Tony and McGee to be the entertainment, waving fistfuls of $1 notes at them. The woman had tried to convince Gibbs earlier in the evening, Ziva remembered, but had backed off both at the look she'd received from the man himself as well as the word of warning from Abby, delivered with a smile that had been too sweet to be sincere.

"It comes with the territory," Abby replied with a shrug. She shot Ziva a grin over her shoulder as she packed away an assortment of adult toys Carol had been given by one of the guests. "So if you settle on a lucky guy and decide to get married..."

Ziva shook her head vehemently, rolling her eyes as she returned to her task. "That will never happen, Abby."

"Never say never," Abby retorted, straightening as she surveyed the rest of the VIP area. "The guys behind the bar said to leave the decorations if we wanted. They don't mind sorting that out for us."

"They're very helpful," Ziva commented, glancing over her shoulder at the bar where three bartenders worked – two male, one female. "Do you come here much?"

"Not as much as I used to," Abby admitted, her tone conversational as she began gathering the last of the presents. "To be honest, I feel a bit too old to come to places like this unless it's a special occasion. Carol keeps teasing me I'm beginning to act my age."

Curious, Ziva stopped what she was doing to look at the forensic specialist. "You are not that old, Abby. You can't be much older than I am."

Abby laughed at that, to Ziva's surprise. She looked pleased, though. "I won't ruin the illusion but I will say thank you, you just made my night."

Letting the conversation drop though making a mental note to do a little digging on Abby's actual age, something she'd just assumed in the past, Ziva was glad when the party was finally over. The bride-to-be was bundled into her waiting and very amused fiancés car and the NCIS agents met at the front of the club, ready to go home and get some sleep.

She accepted the nod of thanks Gibbs gave her for putting up with the party and knew he believed as she did that it was worthwhile to see Abby smiling again, her worries momentarily put to the side.

* * *

The weekend passed without incident. There was nothing from Drew Barton, no contact, no sighting, and they all allowed themselves to relax just a little. By the time Monday rolled around, the group was well rested, refreshed and more determined than ever to find Barton before he could get close to Abby.

Their determination was only strengthened when, mid-way through the day, Abby received a telephone call from Drew, one that brought them all back to reality with an unwelcome thud.

"Forensics lab. Abby Sciuto." Abby answered cheerfully, in high spirits after a good weekend spent in Gibbs' company. She'd hit the speakerphone automatically, moving around the lab as she spoke. She'd decided to work on a cold case to keep herself busy in the meantime, needing the distraction only engrossing herself in her job could provide.

"Hey, Abby. It's me."

It was the first time she'd heard him speak but she knew instinctively who it was. She stopped mid-step, her blood running cold as his voice continued to come out of the speakers.

"I'm sorry about leaving Mikel in your apartment. I just wanted to be sure you know you're safe now. He can't hurt you again."

Stumbling forward, she hit the necessary buttons to start recording the call with one hand while the other fumbled with the buttons of her cell phone, calling Gibbs and letting him listen to what she was hearing.

"Talk to me, Abby, please," Drew pleaded, his voice taking on a desperate quality. "I need to know you're there. I need to know you're listening."

"I'm listening," Abby managed, looking up as Gibbs walked into the lab, his cell phone in his hand and his agents on his heels.

"You know why I did it, don't you?" Drew continued after she'd spoken. "You know I couldn't let him hurt you? Just like Tommy. I didn't know at first what Tommy was planning. For the others, yeah, but not for you. If I'd known, I would've acted sooner. I would've taken care of him for you before he hurt you."

"You killed Tommy Doyle?" Abby asked, confusion in her tone. She closed her eyes when she felt Gibbs move to stand behind her, resting a hand on her hip to assure her of his presence. She heard the soft clicking of fingers on a keyboard and knew McGee was trying to trace the call. "I thought he killed himself."

Drew laughed then, a sound that sent unpleasant shivers up and down her spine. "He was a coward," he told her scornfully. "He would have never killed himself. He planned to get out through the backdoor but I locked it after he armed the explosives. I'd have loved to see his face," he continued, a wistful sigh escaping him, "when he realised what I'd done. He deserved it, Abby. He could have killed you."

"I know that," Abby murmured, remembering only too well how ill she'd felt in the days leading up to her eventual collapse.

"He had to be punished," he continued as though he hadn't heard her. "I couldn't let him get away with it, Abby, not when I knew he wouldn't give up. He wanted to make the agents you work with suffer and I think he realised that he could do that by hurting you. I couldn't let that happen, could I? Not when we're supposed to be together."

Abby tensed, the matter-of-fact delivery of his words causing her stomach to lurch. Behind her, she felt Gibbs shift even closer. She inhaled deeply and leaned against him, using his warmth to ground her. "What about Mikel?" She heard herself asking, her voice unsteady. "What did he do to deserve it?"

"He threatened you." Drew sounded surprised that she had to ask. "He told me what he did to you, Abby. He said he'd planned on killing you, that if you couldn't be with him in life, you'd be with him in death. He was delusional. He actually thought you wanted to be with him but couldn't be, because of the people you work with. He said you were scared of them, that they were influencing you, keeping you away from him." He snorted derisively. "As if they would've been able to get between you if you really loved him. Mikel didn't understand that. He didn't realise that you're not meant for him, didn't realise he didn't deserve you."

Abby opened her eyes at the sensation of movement beside her, tilting her head to see the handwritten note from McGee, delivered by Tony, instructing her to keep Drew talking. "And you think you do," she said softly, her hand finding Gibbs' where it rested on her waist, twining their fingers together.

"Of course." The confusion in his voice thickened. "We're meant to be together, Abby, surely you can see that? Why else would we be brought together like this? Fate meant for us to meet. It was fate that brought me to Mikel, Mikel that brought me to you," his tone grew insistent. "You understand that, don't you? You get why there can never be anyone else for either of us, why no one will get in the way of us being together..." His voice dropped a notch. "I won't let anyone come between us, Abby. I promise. It'll be you and me, together for always soon. I've got it all worked out."

His words sounded ominous, almost like a threat, though she was sure that wasn't how he'd intended them. Clearing her throat, she glanced at McGee, biting back a sigh when he shook his head to indicate he hadn't managed to pinpoint Drew's location. "You want to share those plans with me?" She asked, trying to keep it casual. "If you've got it all worked out..."

Drew laughed again and she found herself swallowing hard. "You'll know soon enough," he promised. "I've got to go, got things to do. I just wanted you to know I'm looking out for you, Abby, and that we'll be together soon. No one will get between us, I promise. I love you."

He hung up with a soft click and Abby let her shoulders slump. Her legs felt shaky, her knees weak, and she was grateful for the support of the arm Gibbs' slipped around her waist as he led her to her stool.

"McGee?" Gibbs questioned, arching an eyebrow at his agent. He cursed softly when McGee shook his head.

"Looks like he had something set up to bounce the signal all over the place," McGee reported apologetically. "I can't get a location, boss. I'd only just managed to trace it back to DC before he hung up."

"Keep working on it," Gibbs murmured, a sigh escaping him. "See if you can narrow it down to a particular area." He turned his attention to Abby, a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

She trembled under his hand but managed a nod and an unconvincing smile. "I'm fine. I'll be better when you guys catch him but I'm okay. It doesn't sound like he wants to hurt me, which is one thing I don't have to worry about anymore."

Gibbs squeezed her shoulder. "Just call if you need me. McGee, keep working on tracing the call. DiNozzo, David, you're with me."

"Where are you going?" Abby asked before they could leave, looking up at him questioningly.

"We're going to check out the hotel the wedding's going to be in, make sure we've got all the exits covered on the day." He leaned down and kissed her forehead softly, seeming not to care that his agents were watching. "It's gonna be okay, Abs."

She rewarded his confidence with a smile that almost reached her eyes but couldn't keep it in place for long, an insistent voice at the back of her mind wondering, questioning: what if he was wrong?


	22. Chapter 22

_A longer part than usual, and I hope you all like it. *hugs*_

Part Twenty-Two

* * *

Two days later, the NCIS agents found themselves donning formal wear as they joined the wedding party in a pre-wedding dinner the night before the ceremony would take place. All of the guests involved would be staying over at the hotel where the wedding was being held and the agents were joining them, courtesy of a combination between the NCIS budget and Gibbs' credit card.

He wasn't taking any chances with Abby's safety and had gone to Director Vance to ask for permission for his agents to stay overnight to ensure they were close to her. The Director, somewhat reluctantly, had agreed but only after Gibbs had offered to split the bill.

As Abby's date, he was given an excuse to stay with her all evening, keeping her close with a secure arm around her waist or a thigh brushing hers under the table when they sat down to eat, even as he continuously scanned the room, looking for the man whose image was burned into his memory.

His gut told him Drew was close but neither he nor his agents had found any sign of him. The rooms where the ceremony would take place had been swept for any kind of surveillance equipment and he'd had his agents check out the room that he and Abby would be staying in before checking it himself personally. They'd found nothing, but he couldn't quite shake the feeling that either something wasn't right or something was going to happen.

"Are you okay?" Abby murmured, bringing his mind back to the present as the hotel staff deftly cleared away the plates on the table between the main course and dessert. "You had that look again."

"That look?" He repeated, arching an eyebrow as he looked at her. "I have a look?"

She nodded and tilted her head to the side, studying him. "It's the 'something doesn't feel right but I don't know what' look. I remember it, vaguely, from that night you almost kissed me outside my apartment."

Remembering that night all too well, he considered her words and decided it was possible he did have 'a look' like the one she'd described. "It's nothing, Abs. Don't let it ruin your evening."

"My evening isn't ruined. It's not perfect," she admitted, lifting one bare shoulder in a casual shrug. "But Carol's enjoying herself and that's what's important. She's happy."

Seeing that it meant everything to her that the events in her own life weren't impacting her friend's wedding, Gibbs felt his heart swell with pride and affection. "You're amazing," he told her, dropping his voice to a low murmur only she could hear.

Abby blushed, the soft pink spread across her chest, up her neck and into her cheeks. She looked down at the dress she wore, a short, strapless black number she'd bought especially for the occasion. "I... Thank you?"

"It's not just the dress, Abby, it's you." He ran his finger over her knuckles where her hand rested on the table, enjoying the sight of the shiver that ran through her. "You're amazing."

He covered the gap between them and gave her a lingering kiss, oblivious to the reactions of those around them. He didn't see Ziva's smile or hear Carol and Hanna's chuckle. He didn't see Tony's smirk or McGee's blush.

And he didn't see the scowl on Drew Barton's face as he watched from the balcony doors.

* * *

The ceremony went off without a hitch, with the exception of a few family members having decided to continue the party the night before into the early hours, and it was with tears in her eyes that Abby watched her best friend get married. She exchanged a soft smile with Hanna, who was crying unashamedly, and let her gaze wander to the audience, flittering over her friends before resting for a few moments on Gibbs.

She drew her eyes away when the happy couple broke their kiss and began to walk back down the aisle, taking the arm of the groomsman who'd been assigned to her so she could follow them to the dining room.

"Ms. Sciuto?" The voice stopped her in the hallway between the room where the ceremony had been held and the room where the reception would be. Abby turned to see a harassed looking woman staring at her anxiously and, after a few seconds of searching her mind, managed to place her as the catering assistant to the chef she'd gone with Carol to hire for the day. "I'm sorry to bother you," the woman began, "but there's a man in the kitchen insisting we've got the order for the main course wrong..."

Immediately conjuring an image of Carol's new father-in-law, a man who'd managed to toast the bride and groom several times over before the ceremony had started, Abby shook her head and turned to her escort with an apologetic smile. "Would you mind going on ahead of me, Chris? It won't take long."

"I don't know," Chris Wilson, Carol's cousin, said with a dramatic sigh and a shake of his head. "Ditched before the reception even starts. It's bad enough you brought your own date, Abs, now you won't even walk into the room with me..." He brightened after a split-second. "Though it means the silver-fox you brought with you is free for a few moments... Think I can get him to dance with me?"

She laughed at the hopeful expression on his face; she couldn't help herself. "Why don't you try that and see where it gets you? Just be warned, he's armed, so no definitely means no."

"Armed and gorgeous." Chris faked a swoon. "Hurry back, honey, or you might really find yourself with competition."

She shook her head and followed the assistant towards the kitchens, walking in the opposite direction to the reception rooms. She thought briefly about letting Gibbs or one of his agents know where she was going but figured she'd probably still make it to the reception before they filed in with the rest of the guests.

On reaching the kitchen, she found the man the assistant had told her about arguing with the red-faced head chef, her steps slowing. He had his back to her but she could already tell it wasn't the groom's father as she'd been expecting; the man in front of her was too thin and had too much hair.

Before she could question him, or start backing out of the room like her instincts told her, he turned around, alerted to her presence by the relief on the face of the chef. His face lit up, his eyes bright. "Abby!"

"Drew." Abby tried to take a step back but bumped into the assistant. "Go and get Special Agent Gibbs. He's a guest at the wedding," she murmured to the woman.

"Ah, ah, ah." Drew made a tut-tut sound and shook his head, pulling a gun from his jacket and drawing a gasp from both the assistant and the chef. "I don't think that'll be necessary. Mr. Redford, my apologies, I'm sure the chicken was an excellent choice. Ms... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name. Thank you for bringing my fiancée to me."

"Fiancée?" Before she could react, Drew lunged forward and grabbed Abby's arm, pulling her against him and jabbing the gun into her ribs. "I'm not..."

"Hush, Abby. It's okay, I've got it all worked out." He gave her a smile that was nothing short of deranged and dragged her by the arm out of the kitchen. "I thought we could get married first, then we can make a run for it. I had a friend I met inside make us passports so we should be able to get out of the country okay, and then your NCIS agents won't be able to stop us. They don't have jurisdiction outside of the US, do they? I was thinking maybe we could go to the UK? I know you don't like the sun, so that rules out anywhere hot..."

His babbled speech confused her and the pace he set was hard to keep up with in her dress and heels. Abby stumbled a couple of times but Drew was surprisingly strong, managing to keep her upright and moving forward.

Before she knew it, they were back in the room where the wedding had taken place, now deserted with the exception of the minister who had performed the ceremony. Drew's smile grew when the minister looked up, the gun in his hand pressing a little harder to Abby's side as he turned around and locked the door behind them.

"Abby...?" The minister took a step forward but froze when Drew revealed the gun he held. "What's going on here?"

"You're going to perform another marriage," Drew told him matter-of-factly, pulling Abby with him up the aisle. "Remember? I called you yesterday and asked if I could talk to you for a few minutes after the ceremony?"

"That was you?" The minister's eyes widened. "You said you and your fiancée would be attending and wanted to see whether I'd be available when you set the date..."

"Which we have," Drew continued brightly. "Today. And since we're all here, let's get it started."

The minister shook his head as Abby tried to get away from the man holding her. "I can't do that. I won't do that..."

"You will." Steel entered Drew's voice. "Unless you want Abby's blood on your hands. I'll kill her and I'll kill myself if you refuse. Could you live with that?" The horrified expression on the minister's face said he couldn't. Sensing a victory, Drew pulled Abby with him as he continued up the aisle, stopping in front of the shaken man. "You can skip the usual speeches. Just get on with the important parts; we have a plane to catch."

* * *

He knew something was wrong when Abby wasn't standing in line with the rest of the wedding party. Before Gibbs could open his mouth and ask Carol where her missing maid-of-honour was, there was a commotion from behind him and he turned, his hand automatically reaching for his gun, to find a man in a white chef's uniform and a woman with mascara streaks running down her face, pushing their way through the gathering of guests.

"We need to find Agent Gibbs," the chef called out, pulling the woman with him. "Is there an Agent Gibbs here?"

Gibbs moved to intercept them as his team fought their way through the crowd towards him. He pulled out his badge, revealing it as he reached them. "I'm Gibbs."

"Oh, thank god." Panic, worry and fear shone in the chef's brown eyes. "He has her. He has Ms. Sciuto."

"She called him Drew," the woman at his side sobbed, the hand she lifted to wipe away her tears doing nothing but make the black smudges on her cheeks worse. "He had a gun."

Glancing over his shoulder at Carol and the wedding party, Gibbs motioned to his agents to keep the murmuring crowd as far away as possible and to shield the bride and groom from what was happening as much as they could. "Where did he take her?"

"He said something about them getting married and pulled her out of the kitchens. I don't know where they went," the chef answered. "He had a gun," he repeated, his face growing paler as if it was only just beginning to sink in. "Oh, God, he had a gun."

"McGee, take them out of here. Get some fresh air, some water." McGee moved forward at Gibbs' words and immediately began ushering the chef and his assistant out of the room. Gibbs looked to Tony and Ziva. "Tony, tell Carol what's going on but keep her calm then follow us. Ziva, you're with me."

They made their way through the groups of curious guests. Gibbs followed his instincts and Ziva followed Gibbs, making their way back to the room where the ceremony had taken place. He tried the door handle, disappointed but unsurprised to find the door was locked.

"Go see if you can find someone from the hotel. There must be a spare key." Without looking to check the order was being followed through, Gibbs pressed his ear against the smooth wood, listening intently. He could hear muffled voices, but not clearly enough to make out what was being said or who was speaking. Pulling back, he banged on the door. "NCIS. Open up."

"Gibbs!" Her voice was muffled by the solid wood but Gibbs recognised it in a heartbeat, and doubled his efforts to break through the door.

The lock refused to give even as he threw his weight against it and, when Ziva returned with a stuttering hotel manager in tow, who kept apologising for not being able to find the key, he decided he'd wasted enough time. Pulling his gun from its holster, he took a step back and aimed at the lock, pulling the trigger as the manager's protests fell on deaf ears.

Tony and McGee came running at the sound of a gunshot and it was with a full team of three NCIS agents behind him that Gibbs entered the room.

* * *

"Gibbs!" Abby renewed her struggles to get away from Drew when she heard him pounding on the door but the man holding her wouldn't let go, his fingers digging into the flesh of her arm. "Let me go, Drew. I don't want this. You know I don't want this."

"Of course you do." Genuine confusion passed over Drew's features and he tightened his hold on her, not seeming to realise or care that he was hurting her. "This is meant to be, Abby. *We're* meant to be. You know that, don't you? Deep down, you know they're trying to keep us apart but they won't succeed. We're supposed to be together. It's fate."'

"It's not fate, and we're not meant to be together." Abby flinched away from the hand he lifted to touch her cheek, using his knuckles as he still held his gun. "I don't love you, Drew. I don't know you. *You* don't know *me*. You've built up this picture in your head of what I should be like, what we should be like, but it's all based on a fantasy. You've done exactly what Mikel did..."

"No! No, I'm not like him. This isn't in my head." Drew protested vehemently. "You know what we've been through. You felt it, too, Abby, when we met at the coffee shop, when you saw me at the mall. You looked right at me. I know you feel it, too, there's no point in denying it."

"I'm not only denying it, Drew, I'm telling you it's all in your mind. There is nothing between us. There never has been, and never will be." Abby took advantage of his shock, pulling her arm free from his grasp just as a gunshot rang through the building.

As the doors flew open, Abby moved to stand with the minister at the front of the room. Drew stood between them and the NCIS agents who burst in. He pointed the gun first at Abby, then at Gibbs and his agents, then back at Abby, wavering in indecision.

"Put down the gun, Barton. No one else needs to get hurt." Gibbs kept his voice calm but Abby could hear his struggle for control in his voice.

"We're getting married," was all Drew could say, shaking his head. He glanced at Abby again, devastation lining his features at what he saw on her face. "Abby... Please, tell them. Tell them you love me, that you want to be with me..."

Abby shook her head, backing away further when he took a half-step closer. "I'm sorry, Drew. You need help. Please, put the gun down and we can..."

"Don't. Don't patronise me." His voice shook. The heartbroken tone was replaced by rage that made his eyes gleam. "You led me on," he accused, turning on Abby, stalking towards her. "You made me fall in love with you, made me believe you wanted to be with me."

"No, you did that all yourself," Abby murmured, pity warring with her own fear. "Please, Drew. You're not well. Please put the gun down."

Drew pointed it at her in response, his finger shifting over the trigger. "No. Not until I've used it first. Tommy was right about you. He was right all along..."

"Move one more step and I'll shoot," Gibbs called out, reminding Drew he wasn't alone with the forensic specialist.

Hesitating for a moment, Drew looked at Abby, his jaw clenching when he noticed her gaze slip by him to rest on the man standing behind him. "Not if I kill you first," Drew muttered, spinning around and firing the gun in his hand.

Two shots rang out and someone cried out. Abby stood, horror and fear paralysing her, as Drew fell forward, blood from the single chest wound spilling out onto the floor beneath him. She tore her gaze from his lifeless body to find Gibbs walking towards her and searched him for any visible sign of injury.

"You're not hurt," she realised, moving willingly into his arms as he sidestepped the body on the ground. "I thought he'd shot you... I thought..."

"He missed," Gibbs murmured, pressing his lips against her hair as he cradled her against him. "It's over, Abby. It's all over now."


	23. Chapter 23

Part Twenty-Three

* * *

The body of Drew Barton went unclaimed. Abby studied him as he lay on a slab in the morgue, recalling everything she'd learnt about the man who had believed himself in love with her.

He'd been an only child to parents who had abandoned him with his maternal grandmother when he was six. When he'd turned eight, his grandmother had died and he'd been moved from one foster family to the next. By the age of nineteen, he had several petty convictions under his belt for theft and minor assault. A criminal profiler had deemed him a potential threat to society but he'd been let loose on the streets, sentenced only after being found guilty of manslaughter after a bar brawl had turned serious.

In prison, he had met Mikel Mawher and Tommy Doyle, the first of his fellow inmates to take an interest in him. He'd been a loner up until that point, keeping to himself, but Ducky had theorised that he'd liked the attention, liked the friendship the two men had offered him and had used it to boost his own confidence until he felt able to branch out on his own.

Unfortunately for Doyle and Mikel, his newfound confidence had come with a price, and that price had been their lives.

The doors to the morgue opened with a gentle swish behind her but she didn't turn to see who had joined her. A few moments later, soft footsteps told her who it was and the soft hand on her arm made her look up.

"You shouldn't be down here, my dear," Ducky told her quietly, concern in his light blue eyes. "There's nothing you can do for the boy."

"I don't know why I feel guilty," Abby confessed, crossing her arms over her chest as she returned her gaze to the body in front of them. "I feel responsible for him, like it's my fault he ended up here."

"He was beyond help before you met him, Abby," Ducky assured her. "His psychological profile showed a need for dependency, and a degree of instability I don't think anyone could have reached through."

Abby sighed and shook her head. "He was so convinced that he loved me, Ducky, so certain we were meant to be together."

"You were the subject of his fixation," he explained. "He saw you as the ultimate goal, probably in no small part due to Mr. Mawher's infatuation with you. He probably listened to Mikel talk about you and began to associate you with being free from prison, free from his past. You were his salvation and he fell in love with the idea of what being with you represented."

"If I was his salvation, why couldn't I convince him to put the gun down?" Abby wondered. "Why did he have to make them shoot him?"

Ducky shrugged his shoulders, momentarily at a loss at what to say. "The human mind is a vast and complex thing. Perhaps part of him didn't want to survive, perhaps he couldn't cope with the realisation that the reality he'd created, the fantasy that had sustained him, would never be true. Or perhaps he hadn't meant to die and truly believed that if he erased what he may have believed to be the one obstacle to your affections, you would change your mind about a life with him. It's something we will never really know, Abby. The dead often don't give us those kinds of answers."

Abby shuddered at the thought of what could have happened if Drew had been a better shot, her mind supplying her instantly with an image of Gibbs' lifeless body on the empty gurney beside him. Still, she felt sorry for the man who had died not more than a few days ago.

He reached for the sheet covering Drew's body and pulled it up further, covering the dead man's face and hiding him from her view. "You have nothing to feel guilty for, Abigail. The man made his choice. Now you have to make yours." He waited until she looked at him. "Leave the dead to rest, Abby, and let the living live."

She managed a wan smile and let him usher her from the morgue, glancing back over her shoulder one last time at the closed drawers behind the body on the gurney. There was something else she had to do, she knew, before she could act upon the advice Ducky had given her and she wasn't sure it was something Gibbs would understand.

* * *

Grey clouds looming in the sky above, threatening to rain down on them seemed like fitting weather for a funeral. She stood alone watching the coffin as it was lowered into the ground, her eyes stinging but determined to let no tears fall.

In a few days, there would be a headstone erected to mark the grave of Mikel Mawher but Abby doubted if anyone would care enough to visit. His parents had died a long time ago and his siblings had decided they wanted nothing to do with him after finding out their brother had been sent to jail.

Mikel hadn't always been crazy, she thought to herself, casting her mind back to the early days of their relationship. She'd loved him as much as she'd been able to at the time, as much as she could while she was trying to deny her growing feelings for someone else. They'd shared the same interests, loved the same things. Mikel had understood her in ways no one else, not even Gibbs in some aspects, ever could. They might have even had a future if he hadn't grown too possessive, too demanding of her time, forcing her to realise he wasn't what – who – she'd wanted.

When things between them were good, they'd been wonderful; he'd been kind and considerate, putting her wants and needs before his own. Then things had started to change and he'd grown too serious for her, talking in terms of forever, becoming fixated on the idea that dying together would be the ultimate act of commitment...

She stood long after the minister and coffin bearers had left, staring down into the hole at the wooden coffin that held the body of a man she had once cared for, remembering the sweet man he'd been what felt like a lifetime ago. When an arm slid around her waist, she tore her gaze away, to look at the man who'd come to stand beside her.

"Thank you," she said softly, knowing it was the last place he would have chosen to be.

"I'm not here for him," Gibbs told her, his blue gaze never once straying to the coffin. "But I know you needed to be."

They stood together for a little while longer before she allowed him to take her hand and lead her to where he'd parked.

* * *

He drove in silence, following the familiar route to his house, pulling up on the driveway behind her car.

There was no dog barking in greeting as McGee had moved into a new apartment and taken Jethro with him, a fact that both pleased Abby as she was glad her friend was settled again but saddened her as she found she missed the dog's presence.

Gibbs escorted her to the front door, his hand a warm and comforting presence against the small of her back. She fished her own key out of her purse instead of waiting for him to find his and unlocked the door, preceding him into the house.

She went straight for the couch and sat down, her hands moving to start unfastening the boots. She was surprised when Gibbs moved to kneel on the floor beside her but didn't protest when his hands replaced hers and he eased the boots from her feet.

Once the offending boots had been put aside, his hands returned to her feet, rubbing her arches firmly as a soft moan of pleasure escaped her and she let her head fall back against the couch.

"Don't know how you can walk in those things," Gibbs muttered after a moment.

"They're comfortable most of the time," Abby replied, letting her eyes slide shut.

A companionable silence fell over them, punctuated by the occasional sigh from Abby as Gibbs continued his ministrations. She opened her eyes to look at him as his hands left her feet and caressed their way up her legs, taking time to massage her calf muscles before he pulled away only to join her on the couch.

She moved to lean against him almost immediately, curling up against his side with her head resting against his shoulder as his arm wrapped around her own. She listened to the sound of his breathing and moved her hand to his chest, feeling his heart beat reassuringly beneath her palm.

As they sat together, just enjoying one another's company, Abby surveyed the living room and contemplated how much it had changed in the short space of time since their relationship had begun. More and more of her belongings had made it across from her apartment but if Gibbs had noticed, he had decided not to say anything.

It was an issue that would have to be addressed, she knew, because she had no intention of out staying her welcome even though she didn't plan on moving back into her apartment.

"Do you have any plans for the weekend?" She asked after several long moments, watching her hand as it rose and fell along with his chest. She felt his lips against the top of her head and smiled to herself, enjoying once more the tender side to him she was finally allowed to fully see.

"None that can't be changed." His arm tightened around her shoulders. "There something you want to do?"

"Not want," she corrected, reluctantly shifting so she could sit up straighter beside him and look him in the eye. Taking a deep breath, she fixed what she hoped was an easy-going smile on her face. "I was thinking about my apartment. I really don't think I can be happy moving back there, not knowing..." She squared her shoulders against a shudder. "I know the cameras have been removed and the holes have been filled but I don't think I could ever relax there, not to mention I think I have a phobia of opening closet doors." At his look of understanding, she continued on. "Would you mind coming with me to look at a few places? I was thinking I could look in some different neighbourhoods. I know you weren't happy with me living there in the first place... Would that be okay?"

For a moment, Gibbs said nothing. He stared at her with a maddeningly blank expression, hiding what he was thinking, what he was feeling. It was one of his traits that she envied as well as being one that sometimes drove her crazy. "What if I said I did mind?" He asked eventually, his tone just as neutral as his expression.

Abby couldn't quite manage to keep the surprise from showing on her face, or the mild hurt she felt from colouring her tone. "I'd say you don't have to come with me if you don't want to. I'm sure Tony or Ziva or McGee..."

"Abs." The note in his voice stopped her from continuing and she stared at him. "I don't mind because you want me to go with you. I mind because it'd be a waste of time and money."

"It's hardly a waste," she protested. "I need somewhere to live..."

"You're not happy living here?"

For the second time in as many minutes, she found herself struggling to school her features in a neutral expression that could rival his own. "I...Is that what I'm doing? I mean, I love it here, with you, but I don't want to outstay my welcome or make you feel like we're rushing things..."

"If you weren't welcome or I was worried about rushing things, I wouldn't have given you a key," Gibbs pointed out. He turned to face her, using the arm across her shoulders to turn her, too. "If you want to look for your own place, I'll help, but if you want to stay here, you're more than welcome."

Abby bit down on her bottom lip and gazed at him thoughtfully. "If I stayed, would I be living here as a roommate or...?"

He arched an eyebrow, a small smirk on his lips. "What do you think, Abby?"

"I think I'd be happy living here, if you're sure you don't..." His mouth pressing against hers cut her off mid-sentence and she smiled against his lips. She wound her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with a playfulness to match his own.

Drawing away several long minutes later, her cheeks flushed and her lips tingling, Abby felt a smile curve her lips. She eased him back with a hand to his chest. She saw his confusion but stood and offered him a hand, her smile growing wider when his fingers wrapped around her own and he stood with her.

"You know there was something else in those bags from the lingerie store you didn't get to see," she teased, lifting a hand to toy with the collar of his suit jacket.

His eyes already beginning to darken as a result of their kisses, Gibbs let his hands rest on her hips, his fingers flexing against her curves. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mmmhmm." She tilted her head a little, a suggestive glint appearing in her green eyes. "I could always go put it on. We could have our own little housewarming party, just you and me..."

He kissed her again, slowly, drawing out the moment for as long as he could. "Why don't we just go celebrate anyway and save it for later?"

A little breathless but very enthusiastic, Abby took his hand and led him to the stairs, answering without words.

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

Another successful case, another bad guy behind bars.

It hadn't taken much for the team to be persuaded to head straight to their favourite bar after work and it had only taken two rounds of drinks for them all to relax enough to enjoy the evening without remembering what had come after their last celebratory night out.

Tony and Ziva engaged in a heated debate over which of them had fired the shot that had disabled the kidnapper they'd cornered earlier in the day, both of them equally convinced that the bullet that had hit his shoulder had come from their weapon.

"You can prove it, can't you, Abby?" Tony implored, looking to the forensic specialist for back up. "The hospital sent over the bullet..."

"She will need to determine who it was anyway, Tony," Ziva pointed out, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "I do not know why you are so eager to find out it was my bullet that hit him."

"Because it wasn't yours, Ziva, yours missed by a mile!" Tony argued. "The trajectory was all wrong; you wouldn't have been able to hit him in the shoulder so cleanly from where you were standing..."

Abby smiled as the pair continued to bicker, taking a sip of her vodka and Red Bull as she tuned out of their conversation and into the one Palmer, Ducky and McGee were having.

"She reminded me of a young woman I once knew, back in Scotland," Ducky was saying.

"Doesn't everyone?" A more-than-a-little inebriated Palmer interjected. Jimmy's grin dropped when Ducky gave him a stern look. "I mean, sorry, Doctor Mallard, continue. Please. Really. I want to know."

McGee rolled his eyes and none-too-subtly kicked the ME's assistant's ankle under the table. "You were saying, Ducky?"

"Yes, as I was saying..." As Ducky continued his story, Abby heard Palmer call McGee a 'suck up' under his breath and had to look away as she tried and failed to stop a smile from spreading across her face.

Gibbs, sitting on her right, noticed and shrugged his shoulders in response. He glanced around the table, checking their colleagues and friends were engrossed in their conversations before leaning in, his hand covering her knee under the table. "You wanna make our excuses and leave?"

"Trying to get me on your own, Agent Gibbs?" Abby flirted unashamedly, closing the gap between them to steal a quick kiss. "I think that could be arranged..."

"Oh, c'mon, you guys!" The sound of Tony grousing made them look up. He shook his head but couldn't quite suppress the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Get a room if you want to do that."

"We have several," Abby retorted tartly, "want to know how many times we've used them?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes and got to his feet, ignoring the almost identical smirks on the faces of Ducky and his agents. Palmer, he noted, just looked confused as though realising for the first time there was something more to Gibbs and Abby's relationship. "Think that's our cue to leave..."

"But I want..." A well-timed slap to the back of his head cut him off and Tony grinned even as he lifted a hand to rub the spot. His senior agent watched as Gibbs helped Abby to her feet, rolling his eyes at the satisfied expression on the forensic specialist's face. "See you guys tomorrow. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"That means they can do anything, yes?" Abby and Gibbs heard Ziva say as they walked out of the bar, hand-in-hand.

Sitting in the car beside him on their way to the place that had become their home, Abby replayed Ducky's advice to let the living live in her mind and smiled to herself once more, content that that was exactly what they were going to do.

* * *

Finis

_I have to say it again - my deepest thanks go to all of you for reading this, leaving reviews, adding it to your favourites & alerts. You have no idea how much I appreciate the support, and how much I hope you've enjoyed the ride. *hugs to all*_


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